




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. | 

1 ©|np.TZ.3(iijp5rig{ji 0. . i 
Shelf .Cc. 5.,.^ 13 : 

i 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, j 




Jt* 






r- p* . 

V • ■ ^ , . T‘ 







A 


^ ' 




% 








t ^ fc 



A-lMlii'- 


1 - f'./ .■:• ''v;.TrS"'V®Sp 

t 'MESI' '- '■■• ■■ . Hf y ■ ' ^-■ |y 



.k 


[y^-r 


r. ‘. 


-f*- *• 


. J ’‘A 


T $ 


> ' ■:5(^ ;,v • 


4 •* 




■; ■ ^ t 


« 4 


« •• * 


r» . 


A • » 


••J. 




■ s -. 9 ' ■- I 

v:*vv:; 


♦ . y\ 


,.r:. .->• :> /a,. 


V .- V*'- 


U ' 


• .5 


ft <1- >>/.;.VT> 




J^^BK ■' At ■ ' ■ » 


BP'. ■«&■:•; -■: .. 


5^' • •iTV'v 

.7i?r * ^■ 


s%' 





W *. ’. A tj> '7* ' «*•*' * t ' t ’^BHHlIr ' ' j 



i. vlw' ♦li.yf 


'<«k. 'Va 





’■•t' - ' 


, **/r|r*-»J 


"t: 






!»!>■: 






»«.»• i. 


i 











f:', 



A A 

I# 

ifc *t * 
.U’7, ^ t I*. 





■■ A- 

<A 

'V 

f ^ 

^ r 

' 1 . 






“.. * 

« 


t ; 



^ • ■ .' . ■■* ; •■ V ./■ ■* ' -ri 

' tx; 4- 




m ^ 



S/ 







/\ 






‘ 7»t 


'■»♦■ » • ‘V. A' • •- rfSfritnil'Vill*--' *''^- 





* - '• ^ r^*.4. 





r-V.? ■ ■“ , 




I V 


Lwi ; li. 


C'. 


■:\ 



kV ,. y .*: r 




rtLy .V ■ I t 


f 4 

















S¥LVANUS COBB, JR 


Author of The Gunmaker of Moscow,'" Etc. 




Q dl LVI £ 




PLOT. 


A DARK 


SYLVANUS COBB, JR., 

* • 

Author of ^^The Gunmaker of Moscow f Etc,^ Etc. 


Copyright, 1890, by J. S. Ogilvie. 


THE SUNNYSIBE SERIES, No. 14. Issued Monthly. December, 1890. Extra. $3.00 per year. En- 
tered at New York Post-Office as second-class matter. Copyright, 1890, by J. S. Ogilvie. 



New York : 


J. S. OGILVIE, PUBLISHER, 
57 Rose Street. 



* ♦ 







'/)A •. W 

‘ ^ 'Ar I 


. ^ 


' '.yf* ?-' ( f,’ 

. .. 'V, 

■:.\';'W;:r'i 


‘ i! •' 




A ' 




V'- 


* ’ 


, j 

1 \ - .T 


/ 'e 


y 


V 



§»MS 0 : 


iK ^ 


>'V;;-;r -vV 




■ v.’*'r \ » V, J ■/••.' 

'■' -''V-' ’ 7; 

. ' V ■ *: V ' » •/ 





• 'W‘ 






j .'V^- 


«i‘ 

’/ 


•-* •■ 


7'- A- 


"•U.1^:;/- 1^ 


I 


■' • >• -•- ''^W!E 



.6' '■>• '-*■■* 






P'v;v- 

a ' 


* ■J’ 




’■*. ?y!i ' ' . •=, ., , ; 

*■■; Vk 1 , * /** *1 







K;- 





‘ ' Vv?'* V) : 

• . •kT •. ' ’ t y 

, s K .• » ,.\ ' < , 

' ■ • I '• . 




/ » 


> •“. 


‘ I Vi- ■! \ <* 


/ ■ ••• f ' '-'f, 

• * iy - 

• - ’ ■-«/•■ I . 


\ , 


^ ♦ I • 


.. k . 


A»,V 




< > 



' » 

V 

A- ■■ 


tr 


SA 




^ • f 


■ A/~ 


t . 


,. ' '■''''•* -» T 

- '■ 1 A' ■ *"■ 

-*.>'• 



^ ..' 'r 


s’ •■•^ V 


■>rv 


-N 


^ ‘s.' 




^■. <■ 


v'. 


»r 




■ ■■'• -■'4'" ■:' -f 

/' 4 ... 

■ - . • '■ 'v'>.vS ‘ 

■Mij. > ■ . - 

• 

K? 


i » s' 


■\ . 


V*'v-V’ •; 








, . /■■ -A /r .v.f'‘ ■ ;;; 




■'i\ 




( / . X " ■ y T • . 

:■ •; . 




■ ■4. 









4..^ 


< » 


■;■ 1 - 
•Jl. V 


’ f 


V 


.A 'U* 


E^<'' 
' A 

\ ' 7 j^^ 


■ . V^; 'v-- * ■ ‘ 

t ■ ^ '• ,* */* *.’ t 3 ^ ''* 

^ A " ' '' •' V‘. 

. - ‘A ' 5 r" 

■ ‘-l: vv' - : ' ' ^ 

■ X.''4'.-^;":.U AA", ■' X' 

■ '7' . .-^ 




If i. 


' * ,'- ' V -V 


' Kn-< > - v ^ ^ > w , . . ■ ■ M ^ ^ ^ .^^p< ifjiVvabS^M 

Air'' ' tJ 


A DARK PLOT 


CHAPTER I. 

THE YOUNG HUNTEE AND HIS ADVENTUEES. 

The year 1700 dawned upon Virginia, and found 
that colony in a prosperous and thriving condition. 
After passing through many and various troubles, some 
arising from the unjust government of England, and 
some from the hostility of the Indians, her people had 
at length arrived at that period of quiet, and under its 
genial influence they began to thrive in their commerce 
and in the cultivation of their rich plantations. The 
only fear they now entertained of the red men was 
founded upon the fact that small parties of them some- 
times ventured down the river on petty thieving expe- 
ditions ; but the planters paid little attention to their 
small losses, save to catch and punish the offenders 
when they could. Wealth was pouring into the col- 

( 3 ) 


4 


A DARK PLOT, 


ony ; comparatively healthy laws had been enacted, and 
the people were contented for the present. 

It was a bright and beautiful day in the laughing 
month of May. On the northern bank of James river, 
some thirty-five miles above the settlement of James- 
town, stood a young man beneath the quiet shade of a 
huge pine, and at whose feet lay two noble hounds. He 
could not have seen over twenty summers ; but even 
that time had been sufficient to develop in his frame 
and features the strong stamp of manhood. In stature 
he was of fair height and well proportioned, showing an 
abundance of physical strength and nerve, and an easy 
carriage. But the most striking part of the picture 
which would first attract the beholder’s attention — was 
the young man’s' face. From much exposure it was 
considerably darke‘ned by the rays of the sun and the 
beatings of the storm ; but yet its fair surface was like 
a mirror, from which was reflected the soul that gave it 
animation ever varying, as thought after thought came 
and went. 

The young man was habited in a hunter’s garb, con- 
sisting of a light blue shirt of stout linen stuff, which 
was secured about the Avaist by a leathern belt giving 
support to a brace of pistols and a hunting knife. A 
pair of deerskin leggins, laced at the sides, a pair of 
mocassins, and a light fur cap completed his attire. As 
we find him now he is leaning upon his rifle, while his 
eyes are turned toward the deep river that flows by at 
his feet. Such is a picture of Orlando Chester. 

While yet the young hunter rested upon his faithful 
rifle, his quick ear caught the sound of oars at some 
distance above where he stood, and, calling his dogs 


A DARK PLOT. 5 

after him, he took up his position behind a clump of 
tangled vines and shrubbery. 

Ere many minutes had elapsed, the youth caught 
sight of a small boat pulled by four 'stout negroes, and 
in the stern of which was seated a young girl and her 
black female attendant. The negroes were pulling 
their oars with all the strength they could command, 
while the girl, with frantic gestures, was urging them 
to increase their speed if possible. The boat was in 
the middle of the river, and three minutes more would 
bring it opposite to where the young hunter stood ; and 
just as he was beginning to wonder that the enemy had 
not come in sight, the sharp crack of a rifle struck upon 
his ears, and on the next instant one of the negroes 
dropped his oar and fell forward at the feet of his mis- 
tress. On the next moment another report, almost an 
echo of the first, rang through the air, and a second 
negro dropped his oar. Quickly throwing his rifle 
across his arm, the hunter sprang down the river’s 
bank, and on casting his eyes up the stream he saw, not 
more than forty rods distant, a large canoe containing 
four Indians, which had come down under cover of the 
bank, in order to avoid the current which the boat had 
buffeted. 

The young hunter saw that he had not been detected 
by those in the canoe, but a glance at the boat told him 
that the girl had seen him. Not twenty seconds had 
elapsed after he sprang down the bank before he was 
back in his place, and with his cap in his hand he beck- 
oned earnestly for the girl to have the boat turned to- 
ward the shore. The hunter could see that she under- 
stood his signal, and also that she trusted him, for he 
saw that she was urging the terror-stricken negroes to 


6 


A DARK PLOT. 


pull for the bank where he stood. The canoe had 
turned its head toward the middle of the river, now 
that the boat was brought so near, and Chester could 
see the heads of the Indians ; two of them were pad- 
dling, while the other two stood up with their rifles in 
their hands. The hunter raised his rifle, and was upon 
the point of firing it at one of the red men, when a 
sudden idea flashed through his mind, and loosening his 
finger from the trigger, he waited with his weapon still 
against his shoulder. The canoe had just begun to turn 
its head in shore again, as the boat changed its course, 
and, if it rounded-to enough, the two standing Indians 
would be brought within range of his rifle ! Anxiously 
the hunter awaited the result. Slowly came the canoe 
about in her angle, and gradually the line of space be- 
tween the two Indians grew less. At length the 
moment came — the line of the hunter’s never failing 
aim passed through the neck of the nearest, and struck 
upon the head of the furthest Indian. With a steady 
hand he pulled the trigger and while yet the sharp 
report was ringing through the forest the two red men 
fell. 

The two remaining negroes heard the report, and 
each believing himself to be the object of its deadly 
intent, they both dx'opped their oars ; but the girl who 
had comprehended the whole, and who had seen tw^ o of 
her enemies fall, soon managed to convince the poor 
creatures of their safety, and once more they took up 
their oars and pulled for the shore, while the two sur- 
viving Indians, completely terror-struck at this unex- 
pected catastrophe, had sprung to their feet and were 
gazing earnestly at the spot where the smoke of the 
hunter’s rifle was curling up above the bushes. With 


A DARK PLOT. 


7 


that sagacity which ever characterizes the red man, 
they seemed at once to understand that there could be 
but one man on the shore, for had there been more, 
there would certainly have been another shot; and 
instantly springing forward, one of them seized the 
only remaining loaded rifle — one having fallen into the 
river when its owner fell — and turned its muzzle to- 
ward the spot where his eagle eye had caught the out- 
line of the hunter's form through the shrubbery. But 
the Indian was too late. Nearly a minute had elapsed 
since Chester had fired, and his rifle was again loaded. 
The white man caught his enemy’s movement just as 
he picked up his fallen weapon, and quick as thought 
his own trusty rifle was on the arm ; again it uttered 
its death-notes ; and another Indian fell to rise no 
more ! 

The single surviving savage saw his companion drop, 
and on the instant he seized a paddle and quickly bend- 
ing himself to the task he shot the pliable canoe up the 
river. The tide was in his favor, and as he shaped his 
course obliquely toward the opposite bank, he was out 
of danger ere his dreaded foe could reload his rifle. 

The bows of the boat touched upon the shore, and 
as the hunter hastened down to meet it, the girl fell 
upon her knees at his feet. 

“ O kind sir, whoever you be,” she uttered, as she 
clasped her hands in gratitude, ‘‘ how shall I repay you 
for this? Life, hope, happiness — all you have saved ! ” 

A moment the young man gazed in a sort of rapt 
wonder upon the fair features that were turned toward 
him, then taking her by the hand he raised her to her 
feet, saying as he did so : 

‘‘ Lady, you can repay me for what I have done. I 


8 


A DARK PLOT. 


have but performed the duty I owe to the world ; go 
you and do the same. When you can assist a fellow- 
mortal, do it and I shall be amply repaid.” 

The fair girl gazed up into the face of him who still 
held her hand, and a trembling blush gradually suffused 
her features, mounting higher, and still higher, till it 
melted away in the liquid light of her soft blue eyes. 
She had expected to have seen a rough hunter, and 
to have heard the harsh tones of a voice that not only 
answered the howl of a wild beast and the yell of the 
savage ; but, instead, she saw a countenance of rare 
beauty and youth, and the voice struck upon her ear in 
tones of rich melting cadence. A light smile flitted 
across the face ,of the young hunter as he noted the 
maiden’s passing emotions, and letting go the soft hand, 
which he seemed to have forgotten he was holding, he 
continued : 

“ I know your thoughts, lady. You wonder that a 
poor hunter should have asked no boon in return for 
his services, but should rather have given only a piece 
of seeming advice.” 

“No, no, sir,” quickly returned the girl; “I was not 
thinking of that. To hear your words and see your 
countenance, would remove all cause of wonder that 
you were noble and kind. As for your advice, as you 
please to term it, I take it most kindly, though the 
being does not live who can, say that assistance within 
her power was ever asked of Ada Wimple, and she 
refused it.” 

“ Ada Wimple ! ” uttered the hunter. 

“ That is my name, sir.” 

“ Then you are the daughter of Sir Oliver, whose 
plantation is below here,” 


A DARK PLOT. 


9 


‘‘ I am, sir.” 

A moment young Chester seemed puzzled by the 
manner of the being he had rescued ; for he had not 
the assurance to think that anything in his own form 
or features had so moved her ; and yet her words were 
not without a turn to that effect; nor could he fail to 
see that in her eyes there shone a light which must have 
emanated from some other cause than that of mere 
wonder. Her father, Sir Oliver Wimple, he had seen 
often, and he knew him to be one of the most wealthy 
and influential men in the colony. It may be that the 
hunter experienced a momentary regret that the maiden 
was not poor like himself ; but, be that as it may, he 
soon banished all thoughts to that effect, and resuming 
his wonted composure, he said : 

“ You were venturesome to go so far up the river, 
lad3^” 

But I thought not that Indians were so near us, 
sir.” 

“ O yes, the redskins venture even below here ; and 
if I mistake not, they have lately paid your father’s 
plantation a visit.” 

‘‘Yes, sir, they have; and he had some of them, 
whom he caught, severely whipped, and I think that 
those who chased my boat were the ones.” 

“No doubt of it, lady. The red man has keen eyes, 
and if he has once seen your father’s boat he will never 
forget it. If they had cause of enmity against Sir 
Oliver, they would venture far to be revenged ; and 
had they overtaken you, you would doubtless have been 
a corpse ere this. Be more careful in future.” 

A cold shudder ran through Ada Wimple’s frame, 
as the thought of that dreadful fate from which the 


lO 


A DARK RLOT. 


hunter had rescued her presented itself to her mind, 
and while a tear stole down her cheek, she said ; 

“ I realize the debt of gratitude I am under, sir, and 
if I am able to repay you by some work of mine, I 
pray that God may ever bless you for your noble kind- 
ness.” 

God already blesses me,” returned the young hun- 
ter, “for my heart is glad. But come, you should be 
on your way homeward, for the sun has already sunk 
far from its noontide height, and your parents may be 
anxious.” 

“And will you not accompany me, kind sir, and 
receive the thanks of my father ? ” asked the fair girl. 

“ Lady,” the hunter said, “ I cannot go. There is no 
danger for you on the river below here, arid your two 
remaining negroes can easily row you down. There is 
one not far from here whom I must protect and com- 
fort; but I trust this will not be our last meeting. 
Something tells me we will meet again.” 

“ If we both live we shall,” uttered Ada, with more 
earnestness than she was aware of. “ But before I go I 
would know the name of him who saved me.” 

“Orlando Chester is the name I bear; but few know 
it, however.” 

“ There is one that holds it now, and who will ever 
hold it in grateful remembrance,” said the fair girl, and as 
she spoke she extended her hand. Orlando took it and 
raised it to his lips, and the next moment he assisted 
Ada into her boat. 


A DARK PLOT, 


II 


CHAPTER 11. 

THE MANIAC MOTHER. 

Until the departed boat was lost to his sight did the 
young hunter stand upon the river’s bank and gaze 
upon the form of its fair occupant. His eyes were 
moistened with a new and strange emotion as the frail 
bark disappeared, and after gazing a moment upon the 
vacant spot where, last he had seen it, he threw his 
trusty rifle across his shoulder, and whistling to his 
dogs, he turned away and struck into a narrow path 
that led off to the deep forest. His steps were slow, 
and even the faithful hounds seemed to wonder that their 
master watched not the game coverts about him. At 
length, however, a sharp growl from one of the hounds 
brought Chester to his senses, and instinctively he 
brought his rifle to its guard and followed quickly after 
the keen-scented hounds. He had not far to go^ for in 
less than a minute a noble deer sprang up before him, 
and darted off toward the river; but the animal had 
not run a rod ere a bullet from the hunter’s deadly rifle 
brought him down, and in a moment more the hunter’s 
knife flnished the work. With a despatch that plainly 
evinced his use to the work, young Chester removed 
the skin, and rolling up in it such parts of^ the flesh as 
he could carry, he started once more onward. 

The hunter’s way lay toward the Chickahominy 
branch,, and at the end of nearly a mile and a half he 


12 


A DARK PLOT. 


came to a small clearing, in the centre of which stood 
a well built log cabin. A single oaken door, formed of 
heavy planks securely pinned together, with a small 
square window on each side, ornamented the front of 
the humble dwelling, while the narrow walk which led 
to the entrance was flanked on either side by several 
flower beds. 

The young hunter went to a small shed that extended 
from the back of the house, and having deposited his 
load and cut off several slices of venison for the dogs, 
he turned toward the door. 

“ I have returned, my mother, and brought with me 
some venison,” said Orlando, entering the dwelling. 

“ So you are a good boy, Orlando ; but I shall have 
no need of meat to-day. See ! I have been busy since 
you were gone. I have plucked fresh flowers, and to- 
day I shall live upon their fragrance. Alas ! that flowers 
should die ! — that the only faithful thing that God has 
made should be so frail ! ” 

“And am I ‘not faithful, my mother?” asked the 
youth in a tender musical tone. 

“You? — you? Yes, my are faithful; and 

though you are your father’s child, and though that 
father was my husband, yet I love you. But he ! Ah! 
why did he desert me ? I loved him, Orlando, with all 
the madness of my nature, and yet he left me I When 
he went away he told me that I should see him again ; 
but years have rolled by since then, and still he comes 
not. O, how cruel for him to desert me thus ! But 
you will not leave me, my dear boy? ” 

“Never,” uttered the youth; and as he spoke, he 
threw his arms about his mother’s neck and kissed her. 


A DARK PLOT, 


13 

The woman drew her dear son to her bosom, and 
after returning his kiss, she said : 

“ There, Orlando, go now and bid Elpsey prepare 
you some food, for you cannot live upon flowers as I 
can.” 

Morgiana Chester was, the reader must have already 
supposed — a maniac! Yet the very mania that had 
shut the portals of her human understanding seemed 
almost to have opened a ray of heavenly light to her 
soul — for never did she rave, never did the spark of 
passion kindle a flame in her bosom, buf with a meek 
despondency, a high-toned melancholy, did she travel 
over life’s dreary way. She could not have seen forty 
years, and though there was no bloom upon her cheek, 
yet there was a transcendent beaut}" in her features — 
a tone of soul and of heart that seemed to have formed 
them for its lovely mirror. 

Orlando could remember nothing back of his moth- 
er’s strange mania ; and the first thing plainly fixed in 
his memory was of having lived somewhere in Massa- 
chusetts colony,' and having come from there to Vir- 
ginia in a vessel, accompanied by his mother and a ne- 
gro woman named Elpsey. Yet he knew that this wo- 
man was grown to womanhood before she left England, 
though he could not ascertain from her whether he was 
born there or in Massachusetts. From old Elpsey he could 
only learn that his mother had once found her in the 
streets of Boston in a suffering condition, and had tak- 
en her to her own dwelling, where she was carefully 
nursed. After she recovered, she offered her services 
to Mrs. Chester, and they were accepted. The old ne- 
gress said her lady had much money when she first 
lived with her ; but as it had been long since gone, Or- 


14 


A DARK PLOT, 


lando supposed that the amount could not have been 
very considerable, though it might have appeared so to 
the eyes of Elpsey. In fact, the only thing that Orlan- 
do could gain with definiteness from his mother was 
that his father had deserted her ; and he reasonably 
supposed that that circumstance caused her mental 
derangement ; and yet Morgiana never breathed a word 
against her husband in anger — she only mourned his 
faithlessness, and sometimes wept over her loneli- 
ness. 

The young man had finished his repast, and already 
the sun had sunk behind the treetops as he arose from 
the table. As he turned toward his mother he was 
somewhat surprised to find her in seeming meditation. 
The vacant look that usually rested upon her features 
when she assumed a musing attitude was not there, 
but the same strange sparkling light that shone upon 
her more active movements was still in her eyes, though 
its beams were more steady and intense. 

“ Ye^, yes, I put it there,” she murmured, as she rose 
from her seat a moment after her son had commenced 
watching her. Yes, Twas yesterday I put it there, for 
I remember it well. How could I have forgotten 
it?” 

As she spoke sh,e went to a large oaken chest that 
stood in one corner, and commenced taking out the 
contents and placing them on the floor. Orlando gazed 
a moment upon his mother’s movements, and then a 
bright tear drop stole down his cheek. A thousand 
times had he seen the poor woman do this, and he knew 
that she suffered extremely whenever the strange delu- 
sion came over her. Slowly and carefully Morgiana Ches- 
ter took article after article from the chest ; each one she 


A DARK PLOT. 


IS 

Would unfold and examine, then lay it aside for the 
next. And so she went on till every article in the chest 
had been examined, after which she diligently searched 
every nook and corner of the inside. The chest was 
perfectly plain, with not even a till to break the same- 
ness of its interior, and after a moment’s examination 
she turned to her son and asked : 

“ Orlando, have you been here since yesterday ? ’’ 
No, mother, I have not.” 

“ Some one has been here and stolen my money. O, 
how could they be so cruel ! I put it here yesterday, I 
am sure.” 

“ Was it money that you put there, mother ? ” 

“Yes, ’twas money. ’Twas money to me, ’twas 
money to you; for ’twas my life that I put there. 
’Twas a simple thing ; yet I would not wish to lose it, 
and so I put it here and locked it up, and the key I 
have worn about my neck. O cruel, cruel ! Why, why 
should they have stolen that? ” 

“ Perhaps you may find it yet, my dear mother,” 
urged the youth in as hopeful a tone as he could com- 
mand. “ Surely no one could have taken it, and be- 
sides, perhaps, you have mislaid it.” 

“No, no,” returned his mother, while the big tears 
began to gather in her eyes. “ I shall never find it 
again. Yesterday I placed it there, and now it is gone! 
Was it not wicked, Orlando, for them to steal my only 
treasure ? My husband gave it to me the night he went 
away.” 

The poor woman covered her face with her hands 
and sobbed aloud. Slowly the tears began to trickle 
through her thin white fingers, and as they fell upon 
her heaving bosom the young man arose from his seat. 


i6 


A DARK PLOT. 


and stood by her side. Gently he pressed his lips 
upon her pale brow, and urged her to be comforted. 
Then as he stood once more erect, he gazed into the 
now empty chest, and wondered what was the nature 
of the secret that hung around it. Ever since he 
could remember he had seen his mother go through 
with the same operation she had now performed, and 
always with the same result. Sometimes a whole 
month would pass away without her bestowing a 
thought upon it, and often she would make the search 
every week; and when she did so she invariably la- 
bored under the impression that it was only a short 
time previous that she had placed her treasure there. 
The nature of that treasure, and the secret of its con- 
cealment, he believed, were locked up in the mind of 
the maniac ; and to that shattered mind God alone 
held the keys. 




A DARK PLOT. 




CHAPTER III. 

THE MYSTERIOUS FRIEHD. 

A WEEK has passed away since the events recorded 
in the last chapter, and during that time Orlando 
Chester had made several expeditions in quest of 
game, and he had got a goodly number of skins and 
furs laid by for sale. For years past while alone in 
his forest wanderings, there had been but one sweet 
image pictured upon his heart — that of his mother; 
but now another had stolen in upon his memory, as 
he had dwelt upon the scene on the river. The lovly 
features, the soft blue eyes, and the grateful smile of 
the fair Ada haunted him in his solitude. 

“We shall meet again ?” answered the youth, as he 
inhaled the fragrant morning. “ Yes, sweet girl, we 
shall meet again, and as rises yonder morning sun over 
the waving treetops, gliding its way in a flood of golden 
light, so thine image rises in my mind and throws its 
softening beams over my soul. But wherefore should 
I see thee again ? — wherefore cherish so dearly thine 
image upon the tablet of mjne heart? We shall meet 
again ! for even thou, sweet Ada, said’st it. Therefore 
I’ll ask not wherefore only to see thee once more.” 

Suddenly, while the young hunter murmured to him- 
self, the sound of an approaching footstep fell upon his 
ear, and on raising his eyes he beheld a strange looking 
figure approaching him from the woods that lay toward 
2 


i8 


A DARK PLOT, 


the river. It was a white man, but yet with a face so 
browned that the features alone betrayed their owner’s 
English descent. In height the stranger was over six 
feet, and his frame was as massive in its proportions as 
he was tall ; but yet there was nothing in his looks cal- 
culated to excite fear, for his countenance was open 
and bold, though it must be confessed that there was 
something hi the twinkle of his small grey eyes, and in 
the peculiar compression of his thin lips that evinced a 
trait of character that only experience could solve. 
The gigantic form of the stranger was clothed in a 
rough hunter’s garb, and the skins of which it was 
formed plainly told that he must have procured them 
far north of Virginia. A long heavy rifle, ponderous 
but comely in its proportions, a hunting-knife, shot- 
pouch and horn, completed the new-comer’s outward 
attire, and take him all in all, he w^s one whom few 
would dare to excite to anger. 

‘‘ Good -morning, stranger,” said Orlando, as the man 
came up, at the same time advancing to offer his hand. 

The new-comer started at the tones of the young 
man’s voice, and ere he spoke he gazed for a moment 
into young Chester’s face. A shade of some strong 
emotion passed quickly over his bronzed features ; but 
it was gone on the instant, and taking the proffered 
hand he said in a voice of much power, but yet far from 
unpleasant : 

A pleasant morning to you, fair sir. I’ faith, but 
you have a paradise of a spot here in the wilderness.” 

“ It’s a pleasant spot, sir stranger,” returned Orlando, 
seeming grateful for the encomium thus passed upon 
his home. 

’Tis-such a one as I could almost fancy,” the stranger 


A DARK PLOT, 


19 


said, as he cast his eyes around upon the blooming 
flowers ; “ but I fear these pretty things would soon 
run to ruin under my care. ’Tis a woman’s hand, 
though, that tends them now. Your wife, I suppose.” 

‘‘No, sir,” replied Orlando, while a shade of sadness 
swept across his fine features, “ ’tis the hand of my 
mother.” 

The stranger cast a searching look into the eyes of 
the youth, and once more swept his glance over the 
garden. Then he said : 

“ She’s a strange being ! ” Then he continued, suddenly 
changing his tone and manner, “ Are you not fearful of 
danger in so remote a place ? ” 

“ And wherefore ? ” 

“ The Indians sometimes venture here, do they 
not?” 

“Yes; but I harm them not, and they harm not 
me.” ^ 

“ How was it on the river a week ago ? ” 

“ Ha ! how learned you of that ? 

“ How could such a deed remain unknown ? ” 

“ But why think you it was me ? ” 

The stranger gazed into the young man’s face for a 
moment, and while a peculiar meaning played over his 
face, he answered : 

“ Could you have heard Ada Wimple describe the 
fair youth who saved her — even to the tones of his 
voice, the sparkle of his eyes, the color of his hair, and 
the kind feelings of his soul, you would not ask me 
such a question.” 

The rich blood mounted to the brow of the young 
hunter, and his eyes fell in a downcast turn, for the 


20 


A DARK PLOT. 


stranger’s words had sent a strange thrill to his soul, 
but soon recovering his composure, he said : 

In that case I did my duty, and I think the Indians 
will not trouble me ; but even if they should, I fear 
them not.” 

‘‘ I fear, young sir, that those light arms of yours 
would be insufficient in case of an attack from the red- 
skins.” 

They never failed me yet,” said Orlando, ‘‘ though 
I like not deeds of strife, yet I fear not danger.” 

“ To deal with such an enemy, you should be able to 
wield a weapon like that, ” said the stranger, as he put 
forth the muzzle of his ponderous weapon, the butt of 
which rested upon the ground. 

At that moment Orlando’s eyes caught the outlines 
of a hawk that was sailing high in the air above the 
treetops beyond the cot. He turned toward his 
strange visitor and took the massive rifle in his hand. 
Its owner smiled and resigned it to the youth, and step- 
ping back a pace or two he remarked ; 

‘‘ She’ll prove a little too heavy for that hand of 
yours, and ’twill be a steady hand and a quick eye that 
takes a wing at that distance.” 

The young hunter seemed not to notice the words 
of his companion, but raising the rifle to his side he 
drew back the hammer, and then placed the butt against 
his shoulder. The single tick of a watch could hardly 
have passed between the resting of the rifle and the 
pulling of the trigger. The sharp clear crack rang 
through the forest, and on the next instant the hawk 
uttered a shrill scream — trembled a moment on its out- 
spread pinions — and then, with a last effort to maintain 
its position, it shot obliquely through the air, and fell 


A DARK PLOT. 


21 


not a rod from wliero the two men stood. Orlando 
stepped to where the bird had fallen, and picking it up 
he returned and handed it to the stranger, saying as he 
did so, ‘‘ That’s a good weapon.” 

As the powerful hunter took the rifle back into his 
own hand, he looked with a .strange emotion upon the 
youth, and then flinging the hawk upon the ground, he 
stretched forth his broad palm, and said : 

Orlando Chester, take that hand. There — it shall 
ever be yours in time of need, and upon Mark Chiron 
you may look as a friend. If the enemy are subtle, the 
will and strength of Chiron can overcome them.” 

A moment the young man retained his grasp of the 
hand that was thus held out to him, and while yet he 
gazed with wonder at the face of his companion, he 
*said: 

“ Speak you of enemies to me ? ” 

Indeed I do.” 

But I fear not that the red man will attack me.” 

Is there no danger in the world, no enemies but the 
redskins ? do not white men sometimes prey upon e^^ch 
other ? ” 

‘‘ Yet there are none to prey upon me.” 

“ Be not too sure of that, young sir. I came not 
here without an object, nor do I offer my services at 
random. I ask you not to accept of them, for they 
shall be yours at my own will.” 

There was an air of truth in the words, and in the 
manner of Chiron which the young hunter could not 
doubt, and after a moment’s reflection, he said : 

“ If it be as you say — that there is really danger in 
my path — you can be my friend now by explaining to 


22 


A DARK PLOT. 


me its nature, and then I can save you further trouble 
by avoiding it myself.” 

“ The nature of the danger I cannot explain, and, to be 
plain with you, I tell you I would not if I could. Nay — 
do not start. I speak my thoughts plainly, and I fear not 
to tell the truth. I have come here to-day to recognize 
you, and when I first saw this garden that lays in such 
fantastical forms and devices about us, I knew well 
from whose brain sprang the wild conception, and I 
knew, too, whose delicate hand must have done the 
work — there is but one, and that ” 

The giant hunter drew his hand across his eyes as he 
thus abruptly broke off, and then, raising his face to- 
ward heaven, he uttered : 

Alas ! poor Morgiana Chester, thy fate is a hard 
one ; but if there be a just God in Heaven thy wrongs 
shall be atoned for, and those that wrong thee shall be 
brought to justice. By yon bright shining sun that 
lights thy fair wildwood home, I swear it ! ” 

How ! My mother ! Wrong her ! ” ejaculated Or- 
lando, seizing the strange man by the arm. If you 
know aught of her wrongs, speak — tell me of them — 
tell me who has wronged her, and though the very 
crown of England rested upon his head, she should be 
avenged! My hand should seek him out. Speak, sir 
— tell me what you know of this ! ” 

Nothing of which I can speak,” calmly returned 
Chiron, gazing with an affectionate look into the face 
of his companion. Blame me not, blame me not, nor 
yet question me further. What I have said is true, 
and time will reveal it. But now I must see your 
mother. I must look once more upon her sweet face.” 

For a full minute Orlando regarded the man before 


A DARK PLOT, 


23 


him in a sort of wondering astonishment. Every ves- 
tige of doubt had fled from his thoughts, and though 
he wondered, yet he hesitated not to trust. Then there 
was something in the manner of Chiron, a kind of au- 
thoritative determination, that made him hesitate ta ask 
further questions, and at length he said : 

‘‘ My mother is in the cot, and if you will follow me 
you can see her.” 

Stay a moment,” uttered Chiron, as Orlando turned 
to lead the way. ‘‘ Do you think one who knew me 
years ago would know me now ?” 

I should think not,” returned the young man, as he 
ran his eyes for the hundredth time over the face of his 
companion. 

Lead the way then,” said Chiron, “ and mind you, 
Orlando, I have called but for a drink of water and a 
slice of venison.” 

The young man signified his understanding of his 
companion’s meaning, and without further remark he 
led the way to the house. In the entry Chiron depos- 
ited his rifle, and then followed his conductor into the 
presence of Mrs. Chester. For a moment the powerful 
man gazed upon the fair, pale features of Morgiana 
Chester, but when her large dark eyes met his own, he 
turned away to hide a tear that stole to his eye. The 
unwonted emotion soon passed away, and turning his 
gaze once more upon the poor woman^ he took the seat 
which Orlando offered him ; soon after which the youth 
brought him a dish of water. 

While Chiron was drinking, Mi^s. Chester seemed for 
the first time to notice that there was a stranger in the 
house, and after watching him for nearly a minute, a 
§udden light overspread her beautiful features, and ris- 


24 


A DARK PLOT, 


ing from her seat, she approached the place where he 
sat, and laid a hand carelessly on his broad brow. Chi- 
ron trembled with the exertion to keep back the emo- 
tion that would spring to his face, and at length he was 
able to meet the inquiring gaze of the eyes that were 
bent upon him 

Orlando watched with an excited interest every 
movement of his mother, and his heart bounded with a 
wild thrill as the thought stole over his mind that she 
would recognize the strange man, and that his secret 
would be known to him ; at least that he should know 
who he was. 

‘‘ Are you not a stranger, sir ? ” said she in a tone of 
considerable earnestness. 

‘‘I am, madam,” returned Chiron, again starting, as 
the sweet musical tones of that voice fell in rich ca- 
dence upon his ears. 

“ Then perhaps, kind sir, you can tell me of my hus- 
band. He has deserted me, sir, and I know not where 
to look for him.” 

‘‘What was his name, good woman ? ” 

“ Name ! ” uttered Morgiana, while her large eyes 
filled with tears. “ Alas ! he had no name. When he 
deserted me and lost his honor he lost his name. .0, 
he was cruel thus to leave me ! But he will come back 
for he told me he would. You have not seen him, 
then ? ” 

This last expression was so melancholy, so full of 
real heartfelt sorrow, that the strong man could no 
longer contain his feelings, and as the tears burst from 
his eyes, he murmured : ^ 

“ O God ! what a fall is- here.” 

“ And do you, too, weep ? And is it because you 


A DARK PLOT. 


25 


know not where my husband is and thus you weep for 
pity ? See, sir, those flowers are weeping. This morn- 
ing I went forth among the shrubs and vines, and they 
all bowed down with pearly tears ; but they looked 
not so kind as you nor do they weep long, for when the 
sun shines upon them they feel happy in the laughing 
beams and wipe awaj^ their tears. Surely you must 
have seen my husband. Tell me, have you not ? ’’ 

‘‘ No, madam, I have not. But rest you in peace, for 
you may yet see him again.” 

Mrs. Chester went back to her window and sat down. 
Whether the thoughts of her husband had passed from 
her mind, or whether the assurance of the strange 
hunter had softened her griefs it is impossible to tell ; 
but at all events her tears were wiped away, and her 
usual sad, placid melancholy overspread her fair feat- 
ures with its softening influence. 

As soon as Chiron saw that Morgiana was quieted 
from her burst of grief, he arose from his seat, and 
beckoning to Orlando, he took his rifle and left the 
cot. 

Sir,” said the old hunter, while he swept the locks 
that were just beginning to be tinged with the frost of 
years, back from his brow, as the two stood once more 
in the garden, “ this is the first time for many, many 
years, that tears have wet these rough cheeks of mine ; 
but who, who could see that sad sight and not weep ! 
I^oy, you know not what a mind has there been 
wrecked. The same pure, sweet, mild disposition still 
reigns in that bosom, but that noble mind — that gem of 
the pure soul, is gone, and God alone can take away 
the cloud that hides its lustre. I must now away, but 
be sure we shall meet again, and often. Pursue your 


26 


A DARK PLOT. 


wonted course, and when danger threatens I will be 
near to help you.” 

“ One moment, sir,” said the young man, as Chiron 
was in the act of turning away. “ Which way from 
here do you take ? ” 

“ To Jamestown.” 

“ And how ? ” 

“ The same way I came — by land.” 

“I, too, am going to Jamestown to carry a load of 
skins and furs, and if you will take a seat in my canoe, 
we will bear each other company.” 

Chiron assented readily to the proposal, and while 
Orlando went to make his arrangements, the old hunter 
reloaded his rifle, and then busied himself looking 
about the place. It took the young man but a few 
minutes to get ready for his mission, and when he re- 
joined his companion with the furs upon his back, the 
latter remarked, as he noticed a pistol in the belt of 
Orlando, You go well armed.” 

I always do,” returned the youth, as he started 
off. My rifle carries but one ball, sometimes I want 
more.” 

Orlando led the way in a south-easterly direction to- 
ward the river, and as both the hunters were naturally on 
the watch for what might be stirring about them, there 
was but little said on the way, and that of a common- 
place character. At length they came to a small vine- 
arbored cove, which led up some rods from the river, 
and here the young man found his canoe, and ere long 
they were upon the broad river, with the tide in their 
favor, sailing rapidly down toward the settlement. 

For nearly fifteen minutes after the canoe was upon 
the river, not a word was spoken. Chiron was busy 


A DARK PLOT. 


27 


with his own thoughts, and Orlando knew not how to 
address his companion upon the subject nearest his 
heart. There were a hundred questions he would have 
liked to have asked, but he disliked to have a refusal 
for an answer, and so he asked them not. 

‘‘ Orlando,” at length asked Chiron, just as the youth 
had shot his canoe past a swift eddy that made round 
an abrupt point, “ will you tell me what are the pecu- 
liar points of your mother’s mania ? ” 

“ There are only two things that seem to be firmly 
fixed on her shattered mind. One of them you have 
seen in its effect. The same question she so earnestly 
asked you she puts to all strangers who may call, but 
never before did I know her to approach a visitor as 
she did you. And she also often talks to me about her 
husband’s having cruelly deserted her. Then there is 
one other subject which seems indelibly fixed in her 
memory. She has a strong old oaken chest, and ever 
since I can remember, she has as often as once a month, 
and frequently much oftener, searched it all thro(igh in 
quest of some treasure which she says she deposited 
therein. Sometimes she says ’twas money, and at oth- 
ers she asserts it was merely papers.” 

And the chest — is it safe ? ” uttered Chiron, with 
sudden energy. 

“Yes, the chest is safe, but the treasure, whatever it 
may be, my mother says Was stolen from her,” Orlando 
answered, regarding with no small degree of wonder 
the manner of his companion. 

“And how has she searched it? What nooks, what 
corners, what secret places has she found?” 

“None at all. The chest is perfectly plain, without 
a crevice or crack to indicate any secret hiding place/’ 


28 


A DARK FLOT, 


“ ’Tis fortunate for poor Morgiana that she has lost 
her own secret,” murmured Chiron, half to himself, 
“for had she remembered it she might have found her 
treasure, but to have irredeemably lost it.” 

“ Chiron,” said the young hunter, as he raised his 
paddle from the water, and in a voice so soft and low 
that its earnestness was like a prayer, “ what of the 
treasure ? Speak, I adjure you.” 

“ If I give you one plain straightforward answer, will 
you promise to ask no more ? ” 

“ I promise.” 

“ Then the paper — for a paper I think it is — is un- 
doubtedly safe, and for the present it is safe only in its 
concealment ! ” 

Again Orlando Chester dipped his paddle into the 
water, and mechanically he worked his canoe forward. 
He gazed upon the strange man before him, but he 
dared not break his promise, and he asked no more, 
though he would have given his all for a solution of the 
mystery. But yet, all mysterious as Chiron was, the 
young hunter resolved that he would trust him, for he 
believed that in some way he held the key to his own 
and to his mother’s fate ! 


A DARK PLOT. 


29 


CHAPTER IV. 

LOVE. 

A FEW miles above Jamestown, stretching back from 
the northern bank of the river, lay the rich tobacco 
plantation of Sir Oliver Wimple. The sun had turned 
upon its afternoon course, and though its rays beat 
down with a strong power, yet the fresh breeze that 
came creeping up from the broad Chesapeake cast an 
invigorating influence through the atmosphere. 

Within one of the paths of the garden, at the end 
of which was a sort of greenhouse, stood Ada Wimple. 
She had been picking some weeds from a small bed of 
English clematis, and had just risen to her feet, when 
the sound of approaching steps attracted her attention, 
and the next instant she was in the presence of Orlando 
Chester. A slight, tremulous blush passed over her 
fair features as she met his dark eyes, but it was 
quickly gone, and with a frank, kind smile, she ex- 
tended to him her hand. 

“You will pardon me for this intrusion, lady,” said 
the young hunter, still holding the hand that had been 
extended to him, ‘‘but I was passing homeward in 
my canoe, and I could not resist the desire to see 
you.” 

“ And surely you would not have passed without 
stopping ? ” said Ada, with artless grace. 

“ No, I would not have passed now without stop- 


30 


A DARK PLOT. 


ping,” replied Orlando, ‘‘for I desired to know of your 
safety, and I feel happier now that I know that you 
suffer not from the effects of your adventure on the 
river.” 

“And that I do not suffer, or that I even live to know 
it, I owe to you,” returned Ada, while a bright beam 
of gratitude shone from her blue eyes. “ Of course, sir, 
you will always call when you pass.” 

“Always? ” iterated the young man, in a tone of deep 
meaning. “ No, I may not stop again.” 

“Not stop again! ” repeated Ada, in a tone of sur- 
prise, with a sudden look of disappointment resting on 
her features. “You will surely come and see my 
father and my mother. They are both away to-day at 
Mr. Berkley’s.” 

“And wherefore should I see them?” 

“ That they may thank you for saving their only 
child.” 

“ Do they not thank me already ? ” 

“Thank thee? Ah, yes — and bless thee too.” 

“ Then I accept their blessings, and I feel a joy in 
knowing that I have merited them. But I did not that 
deed for thanks, nor for any other blessing than that 
given by my own approving conscience. When your 
parents return, tell them that he who saved your life 
feels happy that he possesses their thanks ; and for 
you, fair girl, I can only say, may God make your life 
as happy as the soul that sustains it is pure and vir- 
tuous.” 

Orlando did not turn away as he spoke, but with a 
kind but melancholy look, he extended his hand to the 
fair being who stood before him. Ada took it, and with 
trembling accents she said * 


A DARJC PLOT, 


31 


Why, why do you refuse to come again ? When 
first we met, and when first we parted, I had thought 
that a bond of friendship would ever unite us. Few, 
few there are that have such claims upon friendship as 
you ; and why cast it off now ? ” 

The young hunter looked steadily into the earnest 
features of his companion. A strange light shot forth 
from his dark eye, and a powerful emotion seemed 
struggling in his bosom ; but at length it passed away, 
and letting go the soft hand he held, he said : 

Fair girl, I would not tear from this heart of mine 
one chord of pure friendship for all the wealth of the 
colonies. To feel that yourself and your parents are 
my friends is a source of pleasure that I would not 
exchange for all the big-sounding titles in the land.” 

‘‘Then why not call upon us? Why not give to us 
that sure pledge of friendship — the kind smile and wel- 
come of your generous soul ? ” 

“ Ada Wimple,” said the young man in tones so soft 
and plaintive, and yet so thrillingly earnest that she 
felt spellbound by its power, “you say that I have 
saved your life, and you are grateful. I did save it, 
and I am happy. You say that you had thought the 
bond of friendship would ever unite us ; and so it may. 
But I /(5annot deceive my own soul. I cannot take to* 
myself a pleasure that might ere long turn to a serpent 
and sting me. My own heart tells me that the friend- 
ship it already feels would soon kindle to a brighter 
flame. The human heart knows not the social barriers 
which the world has set up between man and man, but 
it loves all that is beautiful, all that is good ; and so my 
heart has turned toward thee until thy image is reflect- 
ed there as a light to my soul. Now I am safe ; and 


32 


A DARK PLOT. 


though it costs me a pang to pluck away some of the 
deeper roots which that friendship has taken, yet I must 
do it ere it grow to a warmer lobe and bloom but too 
wither away and die. You now understand me. When- 
ever you call my image back to your mind, think of me 
as one who has too much honor to deceive you, and too 
much self-love to break his own heart. Farewell, and 
may God bless and protect you, and may the life He 
gives you on earth be one of a joyful truth and virtue.’’ 

As the young man spoke, he turned away to hide the 
tear that stole to his eyes, and in a moment more he 
started to walk away Half a dozen steps had he taken, 
when a low sob broke upon his ear, and while it yet 
went thrilling through his soul, his own name pro- 
nounced in an earnest imploring tone, broke the spell 
that bound him. Quickly, as if by some sudden in- 
stinct, he turned and beheld Ada, with her arms out- 
stretched, and gazing with a tearful imploring look 
upon him. 

“Do not leave me thus! ” she murmured, as she met 
the inquiring glance of Orlando ; and as she spoke she 
buried her face in her hands and wept. 

With a heart bounding from his despondency like the 
lightning’s leap, the young hunter sprang to the side of 
the fair girl, and taking her hand from her tear wet 
face, and retaining it within his own, he uttered : 

“ Ada, Ada, why do you call me back. Speak to me, 
Ada, and ” 

He did not finish the sentence, for at that instant the 
maiden raised her eyes, and as he gazed into their 
liquid depth, he almost fancied he saw his own image 
reflected there. A moment only he hesitated, and then 
continued : 


A DARK PLOT, 


33 


“ What would you say to me ? Fear not to speak.” 

“ I would not have you leave me thus,” she said, as 
she placed her remaining free hand upon Orlando’s 
shoulder. 

I left you in all kindness, Ada.” 

Ah, Orlando, and so you did ; but that very kind- 
ness might break my heart.” 

“ T understand you not,” pronounced the youth, 
while the tremor that shook his frame plainly evinced 
that her words had struck deeply to his heart. 

Ada gazed a moment into his face, and then, while a 
glow of beaming truth overspread her features, she 
said : 

‘‘ You spoke plainly, so will I. Ere you broke for- 
ever the ties that bound your heart, could you not 
have asked Ada how burned her feelings toward you? ” 

‘‘And if I had?” 

“ She would have told you the truth.” 

“ And that truth would have been death to the poor 
hunter’s love.” 

“ And for that thou thinkest I would have called thee 
back. O, while you think your own heart is burning 
with its flame of devotion, you would think mine to be 
as the crystaline flint. No ; hadst thou asked me, I 
should have told thee that the gratitude which the poor 
maiden first felt toward her preserver had alread}^ 
mounted to a stronger feeling, and that it might burn 
with as pure a flame of holy love as ever warmed upon 
the altar of a devoted heart. Now you can leave me 
and return to your home in the forest. Ada Wimple 
has told you the truth.” 

“ Noble, generous girl, what adequate thanks can my 
poor heart pour out for this ? ” ejaculated* Orlando, as 

3 


A DARK PLOT. 


U 

he pressed the hand he held warmly to his lips, and 
then gazed tenderly down into her face. 

“ If I possess the love of your own pure heart, what 
more can I ask ? ” said Ada, in return. 

‘‘ You do, you do possess it. For the week that has 
passed since we so strangely met on the river’s bank, 
this heart of mine has been fluttering and struggling 
within the silken web that would have folded it to 
itself, and a moment ago I thought to break the spell ; 
but now, dear Ada, that heart bounds joyfully from my 
bosom and takes your own to make it whole. Happy, 
happy day.” 

“And none more happy than I,” responded Ada, as 
she pillowed her head upon the young hunter’s bosom. 

“ There, there, Ada, I cannot tarry longer now, for 
my poor mother will moan my absence. The sun is 
already creeping toward its mountain home, and I 
must away ; but may I not hope that some time — ere 
long — you will go with me and spend a day at my 
forest home ? O, the flowers would bloom with a new 
grace, and pour out a sweeter fragrance for your pres- 
ence. We have flowers there, Ada, and the birds sing 
more sweetly than they do here. The brooks murmur 
their sweet music and the giant trees wave their 
branches in a whispering melody above us. Some time 
you will go with me and see it.” 

Ada drank in the soft melodious tones that fell from 

* 

her companion’s lips, and as she raised her eyes once 
more to his, they were beaming with a love that could 
not but come from the very depths of her soul. 

“I will come,” she answered, “ but you will show me 
the way ; and you shall come and see my parents.” 


A DARK PLOT. 35 

“ Your parents !” exclaimed the J^oung hunter, while 
a shadow passed over his handsome countenance. 

‘•I know 3^our thoughts,” quickly exclaimed Ada as 
she noticed her companion’s manner; ‘‘but you need 
not fear for them. They love their child too well to 
see her miserable, and, more than that, though my 
father be a baronet, they have little sympathy" with the 
aristocratic notions of the times, and besides, how could 
they reject as their daughter’s lover, him to whom they 
owe her very life? No, no ; you have nothing to fear 
from my parents.” 

“ Then, sweet one, I shall rest upon your assurance ; 
and until we meet again, may God bless you.” 

Orlando Chester stooped to take one more look at 
those fair features that beamed in love upon him, and 
then turning away he passed quickly from the spot. 


36 


A DARK PLOT. 


CHAPTER V. 

i 

THE FPvUITLESS SEARCH. 

By the time the young hunter reached the cove 
where he usually secured his canoe, the sun had just 
sunk behind the distant treetops that skirted the bend 
of the river, and he made all possible haste to be on 
his way home. His faithful hounds were with him, and 
after dragging his canoe up into the bushes, he whistled 
them away, and shouldering his gun started on. 

He had traversed nearly a quarter of a mile on his 
way, when he was startled by the quick sharp cry of 
one of the hounds. It was a cry such as seldom escaped 
their lips, and for a moment he seemed undecided what 
course to pursue, for both the dogs came crouching to- 
ward him, evidently having seen something they dared 
not cope with. But what could it be? for he knew 
nothing in those woods of such a character. His hesi- 
tation was but momentar}^ however, for laying down 
the small bundle he had brought with him from James- 
town, he cocked his rifle and stole carefully forward. 
The wind that sighed through the towering treetops 
lent but little of its music to break the silence of the 
forest ; 'and as the young hunter crept stealthily onward 
he could almost hear the beatings of the hearts of the 
hounds, as they cowered along keeping close to his 
side. 

He had not proceeded more than a rod, when a sharp 


A DARK PLOD 


37 


double click struck upon his ear, scarcely more precep- 
tible than the dropping of a pin, and yet of such a 
nature as to make him start, for he knew it to be the 
snapping of the dogspring of a rifle lock ! As quick 
as had been the thought that conveyed the intelligence 
to the mind of the hunter, did he cast his eyes in the 
direction from which the sound proceeded, and almost 
on the instant he caught the flery gleam of a glaring 
eye, just within a clump of alders, glancing along upon 
a rifle barrel toward him. One single flutter of hesita- 
tion or fear would have proved fatal to the young 
hunter, but his Jieart knew nothing of the kind. Quick 
as lightning he fell upon his knee, thus bringing his 
shoulder down to his rifle, and on the second that the 
butt came to its place he pulled the trigger. 

The division of a second of time had saved young 
Chester’s life, for almost simultaneous with the report 
of his own rifle had come the crack of his enemy’s, but 
that enemy was half a second too late, and his ball just 
grazed the hunter’s cap, while the sharp cry of pain 
that came from the alders told a fatal tale of him who 
had lain in ambush there, and on going up he found an 
Indian writhing in agony. 

As Orlando stooped over him, he turned his glassy 
red eye upon his intended victim, and as he seemed to 
have recognized the young hunter’s countenance, he 
uttered ; 

“ Poor Indian dead — ^he killed — the young hunter of 
the pale face, he be too quick. Water, water ! ” 

Orlando unclasped the Indian’s deerskin bottle from 
his girdle, and having filled it with water at a clear 
spot in the bog near by, he returned and held it 
to the dying man’s lips. The Indian took a few swal- 


38 


A DARK PLOT. 


lows of the tepid liquid which seemed to revive him 
a little, and on gazing once more into his captor s face, 
he said, in broken, weakening accents, as he vainly en- 
deavored to place his hand upon his head. 

“ Pale hunter take my scalp ? ” 

‘‘No, no,” returned Orlando, with a shudder. “I 
never sought the red man’s harm ; and why did you try 
to kill me ? ” 

“ Feel in my pouch — take it off,” said the red man, 
as his eye brightened up at the assurance he had re- 
ceived that his scalp would not be taken away. 

Orlando did as directed, and at a further sign from 
the Indian, he emptied its contents upon the ground, 
which proved to be a bottle of rum and five half 
crowns. 

“ White man give poor Indian that to kill the pale 
hunter,” said the fallen man, as his eye rested on the 
fiask and the money. 

“ How ! A white man ! where ? ” ejaculated the 
young man, while the strange assurance of Chiron 
came vividly back to his mind, and awakened a 
mingled sensation of surprise and anxious curiosity. 

“ At Jamestown,” said the Indian. 

“Who was it? What was his name?” asked Or- 
lando. 

“I no tell his name. Indian don’t know him. He 
gave me these and say me shoot you. I put them in 
my pouch and come here to wait for you ; but the pale 
hunter was too quick.” 

“ But what looked he like ? Tell me that,” urged 
the young hunter, as he took the red man’s head upon 
his knee and gazed earnestly into his dark face, “Tell 


A DARK PLOD 


39 

me how you should know him again if you were to see 
him.” 

“ Poor Indian never know him again — never see him 
any more ; for the red man must die.” 

As the savage spoke his eyes rolled wildly yet pain- 
fully in their sockets, and pressing his hand hard 
against his bosom, he groaned in his agony. Again 
Orlando asked for some clue to the appearance of the 
man who had thus bartered for his destruction — for 
that the red man spoke the truth, he had not the least 
doubt — but the dying man only groaned in his pain, 
and his weakened senses roused not to comprehend the 
question that was asked of him. At length while a 
quick meteor-like light beamed from his eyes, he said: 

“ The red man dies. His body will rot on the earth 
— nobody buries him ! The pale-face gave him fire- 
water — Indian not Indian then. I was no bad Indian. 
I never killed the pale faces, for they no harm me.” 

‘‘ You shall be buried,” said the young hunter, much 
affected by the manner of the Indian, whom he recog- 
nized as one of those friendly natives that traded with 
the colonists, and whom, he believed, could have no 
animosity against the white man. “ I will myself lay 
you in the earth.” 

“ Dig deep — set riie down so I can look toward the 
place where the sun goes home to the Great Spirit — 
cover up deep — forgive the Indian — he no ” 

The dark swarthy features of the red man Avere 
moved by a powerful convulsion — a shudder ran 
through his frame — his head sank heavily upon the 
knee that bore it, then rolled off upon the ground, and 
his soul had fled to the land of his fathers ! 

The hixuter drew the body within the bushes, and 


40 


A DARK PLOT. 


having covered it over as best he could for the night, 
he went back to the spot where he had left his bundle, 
reloaded his rifle, swung his package over his shoulder, 
and once more started quickly homeward. A thousand 
strange emotions found their way into young Chester’s 
mind as he walked along through the forest. That 
Chiron’s words were founded upon stern fact he had 
now no hesitation in believing. But who was Chiron? 
Who was it that thus sought his destruction, and 
wherefore? Then, in the midst of these thoughts, 
arose the sweet face of Ada Wimple, and once again 
her soft avowal thrilled through his soul, and lent 
itself to dispel the clouds that were fast gathering about 
his working brain. 

It was almost dark when Orlando reached his humble 
cot, and he found his mother sitting on the doorstone 
waiting for him ; but she seemed not to have suffered 
under any apprehension, for she greeted him with a quiet 
smile, and immediately led the way into the interior, 
where he found his supper already in waiting. Often 
during the meal did the young man cast his eyes upon 
the old oaken chest that stood in the corner, and he re- 
solved that he would that very night, if he had op- 
portunity, make a thorough search through it — for 
that it had once contained a paper of some importance 
to his mother and himself he had no doubt ; and that 
it might be there even now, he had strong reasons 
to believe, since he had heard the strange words of his 
mysterious friend. Perhaps there was some place — some 
crack — some secret hiding-hole that might yet come to 
light; and if so, he resolved to find it out. 

The cot was divided into four apartments— three 
upon the lower floor and one in the loft, in the latter 


A DARK PLOT. 


41 


of which Orlando slept, Mrs. Chester sleeping in a 
small room which led off to the left from the sitting- 
room, while old Elpsey slept and cooked in the kitchen, 
which occupied the back part of the house. At an 
early hour Mrs. Chester retired to rest, and erelong 
afterwards Orlando heard the loud snore of Elpsey, and 
feeling sure that all was now secure, he proceeded to 
relight the candle which he had extinguished when his 
mother retired. 

With a noiseless tread Orlando glided into his moth- 
er’s room, and having secured the key, he stepped 
silently back and went to the chest. He threw back 
the lid, and with a trembling, nervous hand, he began 
to take out the articles it contained and lay them care- 
fully aside. He did not stop to examine them, for he 
had seen his mother do it so often, that he knew they 
did not contain the sought-for treasure ; and so he 
emptied the chest of its palpable contents as quickly 
and silently as possible. At length they were all out, 
and the bare oaken surface was exposed to his view, 
and having set his candle witliin the chest, he began to 
examine the corners and joints of the old box. With 
his knuckles he rapped upon every part, but yet he 
met the same dull, heavy sound, showing conclusively 
that there was no secret chamber within the massive 
wood that met his touch. Then the idea of the lock 
came to his mind, and stepping softly to where his rifle 
hung over the fireplace, he took it down, and having 
opened the box in its breech, he took therefrom a 
small screw-driver and then went back to the chest. 
The lock was soon free in his hand, but he gained 
nothing for his trouble, only the satisfaction of know- 
ing that the thing he sought was not there. The wards, 


42 


A DARK PLOT. 


the guards, and all its springs and bolts were revealed 
to his gaze, but naught save the handiwork of the lock- 
smith was to be seen. 

With a sad and disappointed countenance the young 
hunter began to repack the chest. Something had 
almost assured him that the paper was there; ’twas not 
the mere words of Chiron— though what he had said 
had strengthened him in the opinion — but ’twas the 
full blowing of the conviction that had long haunted 
his mind. Now, however, that conviction sank again 
below even a hope; and when Orlando replaced the 
key where he had found it, he did so with the belief 
that it turned not the bolt upon the object of his moth- 
er’s firm, unwavering anxiety. If the paper had ever 
been there, it was in all probability gone. 


A DARK PLOT. 


43 


CHAPTER VL 

' THE TWO SPIES. 

On the next morning after the young hunter had 
made his unsuccessful search within the old oaken 
chest, he threw his rifle across his shoulder, and taking 
a spade in his hand, he started forth to perform the 
rites he had pledged to the dying' red man. Having 
arrived at the spot where the events of the previous 
day had taken place, he found the body of the Indian 
just as he had left it, and having cleared away the 
tangled vines and brushwood from the quiet nook, he 
set to work at digging a suitable grave. 

At length the grave was finished, and with consider- 
able exertion Orlando placed the body of the Indian 
within it. The last sod of earth had been placed upon 
the gentle mound that rose above the Indian’s resting 
place, and the hunter was upon the point of turning 
away from the spot, when he was startled by the 
crackling of the dry brushwood near him, and on look- 
ing around he beheld two men approaching him from 
the path. 

‘‘So you’ve turned grave-digger, eh?” said the fore- 
most of the new-comers. 

“ I have dug this grave and have filled it up again,” 
returned Orlando. 

“And fixed a subject to put in it, too,” said the other, 
with a half-sarcastic grin. 


44 


A DARK PLOT. 


“ He would have killed me had one moment of addi- 
tional life been his,” the young hunter replied, as he 
boldly met the almost impudent gaze of the two men. 

“ That is hardly likely, young sir, for Lolowah was a 
friend of the white man. He was in the employ of the 
governor as a messenger and interpreter.” 

‘‘And how do you know that this was Lolowah?” 
asked Orlando, while a tremor shook his frame as a 
sense of the peculiar position in which he was placed 
came to his mind — for he knew Lolowah to have been 
a sort of spy upon the marauding Indians, and held in 
\ much esteem by the civil authorities, though he had 
never known him by sight. 

“ O, my young man, we’ve watched you ever since 
you began to dig the grave,” returned the first 
speaker, p 

“ Then why did you not reveal yourselves before ? ” 

“ O, we thought you might not like to be inter- 
rupted, you see. People seldom do in such matters as 
these.” 

Orlando started at this reply, for it was delivered 
with that tone and manner which indicate the foulest 
of suspicions, and in a voice of much anxiety he said : 

“ I had nothing here to conceal. I shot the red man 
to preserve my own life. Do you not believe it ? ” 

“ But why bury him, if he would have been your 
murderer ? ” 

“ Because he asked it of me, and I would not refuse 
him.” 

“Ha! then he spoke, did he, after you had shot 
him?” 

“Yes.” 

“And what said he? What did he communicate ?” 


A DARK PLOT. 


45 


asked the spokesman of the two men with a strange 
and sudden energy. 

Orlando, with the truthfulness and candor that were 
a part of his nature, would have answered this ques- 
tion by a full statement of all that had transpired, but 
the manner of his interlocutor made him hesitate, and 
a moment’s reflection made him determine not to 
reveal the knowledge he possessed, so he simply re- 
plied : 

‘‘ He said what a dying Indian might have been ex- 
pected to sa}^ He knew he must die, and he begged 
of me to bury him.” 

‘‘And did he say no more?” asked the settler in an 
earnest tone. 

“What else should he have said?” returned Or- 
lando, bending a keen searching glance upon the 
speaker. 

“ O, nothing, nothing,” he answered. “ I only asked 
because I thought that perhaps he might have — have 
told you — that is — have left some word for the officers 
at Jamestown.” 

“Well, he did not,” replied the young hunter, while 
a smile of contempt curled about the corners of his 
mouth. 

From the whole tone and manner of the two men, 
Orlando at once conceived that they had some knowl- 
edge, at least, of the Indian’s murderous mission, and 
that, however many questions they would like to have 
asked, a fear of implicating themselves would keep 
them quiet on the point he wished to keep from them. 

“Never mind,” at length said he, who had his foot 
still upon the grave ; “ ’tis well for you perhaps, that 
dead men cannot speak ; and it might have been 


46 


A DARK PLOT. 


better still had you got through with this job in se- 
cret.” 

‘‘ What do you mean by that ? ” Orlando asked, as 
the rich blood of indignation mantled his brow. 

“ Oh, nothing in particular ! ” replied the settler, with 
a sort of sarcastic grin. “If you can’t comprehend it, 
there is no need that I should tell you.” Then, turn- 
ing to his companion, he continued, “ Come, Colton, 
let’s be off.” 

As he spoke he took his foot from the grave and 
turned away, followed closely by his companion. 

As soon as young Chester was once more alone, he 
began to reflect upon the interview just passed, and he 
could not but believe that the two men who had just 
left him knew something of Lolowah’s mission, and 
also that their present visit had been made to learn the 
result of the Indian’s ambush. And another thing, 
too, dwelt somewhat lieavily upon the young man’s 
mind. Lolowah had not only been a friendly Indian, 
but having become so serviceable to the government, 

. might. not a rigid investigation take place with regard 
to his death? But what of that? Orlando felt him- 
self innocent of all crime, and endeavoring to banish 
his fearful thoughts, he started on his way homeward. 

When the young hunter reached his cot he found old 
Elpsey standing in the garden, and it took but one look 
into her black features to show him that some circum- 
stance was giving her a vast deal of trouble, for she not 
only appeared much agitated, but her large eyes were 
rolling wildly about in their sockets. 

“ O, Massa Orlando, me glad you come back,” she ut- 
tered, as soon as slie espied her young master. “Me 
sartin ’fraid dey got you.” 


" A DARK PLOT. 47 

“ Got me ? ” repeated the youth. What do you 
mean, Elpsey?” 

“ I mean de two men dat come dis mornin’,’’ returned 
the old woman, regarding Orlando with a look of evi- 
dent satisfaction in view of his safe return. 

“ But who were they ? What did they want, Elp- 
sey?” 

‘‘ Why, I tink dey was after you, massa, but den I 
don’ know who they be, ’cause I never saw ’em be- 
fore,” she replied. 

“ Did they inquire for me ? ” 

“Dey talk about you, massa — an’ I tell you how. 
When you went away dis mornin’, I was down to de 
brook washin’ myself. In a minute I hear something 
make a noise in de bushes, an’ I hide myself , den dese 
'two men come out, an’ one ob ’em say, ‘Dat’s him 
goin’ off into de woods,’ an’ he p’inted his finger at 
you. Den de odder say, ‘ Yes, dat’s him — we’ll go and 
see what he do.’ Den dey talk ’bout shootin’ you in 
de woods, an' ’bout an Indian dog called Lolowah. 
Den me tink dat dey go to shoot you, but bress de 
Lord, you come back safe.” 

“ 6, there’s nothing to fear, Elspey,” said Orlando, 
more to quiet the old woman than by way of expressing 
his own feelings. 

Indeed, he was not without fears and doubts, for the 
whole affair looked dark and dubious, to say the least ; 
but he resolved that his poor mother should not have 
occasion for worriment, and so he cast off the gloom 
that might otherwise have settled upon him. 


A DARK PLOT. 


48 


CHAPTER VIL 

THE ARREST. 

It was the second day after the events recorded in 
the last chapter, that Orlando Chester took his rifle 
and prepared to go out in quest of game. He had 
already passed out from the garden and had just called 
his dogs to his side, when he was somewhat startled by 
the appearance of half a dozen men coming toward 
him from the edge of the wood ; nor were his emo- 
tions lessened when he saw that the sheriff was at their 
head. 

‘‘Good-morning, gentlemen,” said Orlando, as the 
posse came up. 

“Do I speak with Orlando Chester?” asked the 
sheriff, after he had returned the youth’s compliment. 

“ That is my name, sir,” returned the young man. 

“ Then,” said the sheriff, “ I have to ask that you will 
accompany me to Jamestown.” 

“ To Jamestown, sir ? And for what? ” 

“ Simply to answer to a criminal charge that has been 
preferred against you.” 

“ And the nature of that charge — what is it ? ” 
asked Orlando. 

“ Young man, do you know what has become of the 
commercial agent’s messenger ? ” asked the sheriff, in 
return, at the same time casting a scrutinizing glance 
into the youth’s features. 


A DARK PLOT. 


% 


‘‘To what commercial agent do you allude? ” 

“ To Mr. Roswell Berkley.” 

“ And who was his messenger ? ” 

“ An Indian named Lolowah.” 

“ Then I have every reason to believe that I shot 
him,” answered Orlando, frankly. 

“ So you are accused, and for that I must arrest you,” 
said the sheriff. 

“Arrest me for that, sir?” exclaimed the young 
hunter. “ I am sorry that the red man fell by my 
hand, but I could not help it. I did the deed in self- 
defence. Even as I drew my trigger upon him his rifle 
was aimed at my heart. He had waylaid me in am- 
bush, and in a moment more I should have fallen a 
victim to his own bullet. Surely, sir, you would not ar- 
rest me for that.” 

“ If you killed him in self-defence, }^ou will undoubt- 
edly be able to prove it before the court,” returned the 
officer. 

“ And now, how shall I prove it, if my simple word 
is not sufficient ? ” earnestly exclaimed Orlando. “ I 
have no witness but God, for He alone saw the deed.” 

“ I am sorry that this duty devolves upon me,” said 
the sheriff, “ but such as it is, I must perform it. With 
your innocence or guilt I have nothing to do — that 
rests with a power higher than mine. I have simply to 
arrest you, and I trust that you will now quietly ac- 
company me.” 

“ If it be God’s will that I go, then go I must ; but 
you will allow me to see my mother first, that I may 
leave her comfort for my absence ? ” 

The sheriff readily assented to this request, and com- 

4 


50 


A DARI^ PLOT, 


manding all the self-control of which he was master, 
Orlando entered the cot. 

Mother,” said he, as he took the thin white hand 
in his own, and imprinted a warm kiss upon her brow, 
‘‘I am going to Jamestown, and I may not return to- 
night ; but you will not worry about me. I shall re- 
turn to bless you ere long.” 

“ And you will not desert me, then ? ” 

“No, no, mother.” 

“ Ah, there’s a tear in your eye, Orlando. Hold 
down your head and let me wipe it away. There, you 
must not weep, for I shall think you, too, are going to 
desert me.” 

The young man turned away from his mother, for he 
dared not trust himself longer in her sight, and passing 
out into the back room he found Elpsey. 

“ Elpsey,” he said, “ I am going down to the settle- 
ment, and I may be gone for some time, and during my 
absence I would have you comfort my poor mother all 
you can. If she asks after me, tell her I am coming 
back shortly, and assure her that I am safe. Be smil- 
ing and cheerful, and do all you can to ease her mind 
over its troubles.” 

“ And will Orlando come back soon,” asked the old 
negress, gazing earnestly in the young man’s face. 
“ Tell old Elpsey all.” 

“ There is no danger for me,” returned Orlando, and 
then, in as few words as possible, he explained to the 
old woman what had happened, and extracted from her 
a promise that she would do as he had bidden her. 

Elpsey looked uneasy and sad when her young mas- 
ter turned away, and she shook her head with a 
thoughtful, dubious motion, for she had not failed to 


A DARK PLOT, 


51 


read in his speaking countenance the fears and misgiv- 
ings which he would have hidden from her, but she 
asked him no more questions, nor did she say aught 
calculated to betray her thoughts. 

Once more Orlando sought the side of his mother, 
and once more he kissed her. Then he called upon 
God to bless her and protect her during his absence, 
and with a sad, heavy heart he left the cot. His faith- 
ful dogs crouched at his feet, and it was with much 
difficulty that he kept them back, but at length he suc- 
ceeded, though for a long distance he could hear their 
piteous whinings at being thus deprived of their mas- 
ter’s company. 

At the landing a barge was waiting, which the^young 
hunter was politely requested to enter, and ere long he 
was being rowed down the river. A sigh of anguish 
escaped from his bosom as he passed the mansion of Sir 
Oliver Wimple ; and the thought that Ada might hear 
of the crime of which he was accused, without know- 
ing the facts of the case, lent a keen torture to his 
soul. 

When the barge landed at Jamestown, our hero was 
at once conveyed to the oflSce of the justice, where he 
found the two men who had met him at the Indian’s 
grave, and who had appeared as witnesses against him. 
Mr. Roswell Berkley was the man who had issued the ac- 
cusation, and caused the young man’s arrest, and he was 
present in the office when Orlando was brought in. It 
required but a few moments for Gilman and Colton, 
the two witnesses, to tell their story, and ere long the 
prisoner was committed to answer to the charge of mur- 
der. He stoutly persisted in the plea of innocence, but 


A DARK PLOT, 


lie was coolly informed that he could enter that plea at 
his trial. 

In half an hour later Orlando Chester was within 
the walls of the jail, and as the jailer had received in- 
junctions to look well to his security, he was placed 
within one of the strongest cells. As the door of the 
dungeon was closed upon him, the youth sank back 
upon the hard couch and buried his face in his hands. 


\ 


A DARK PLOT. 


53 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A CUKIOUS IKTEEVIEW. 

The cell into which Orlando Chester had been cast 
was upon the lower floor of the jail, the walls of which 
were of rough stone, clumsily put together, but yet firm 
enough to resist any ordinary means of escape. The 
light entered through a square-grated aperture nearly 
at the top of the wall, and the door, which was bolted 
and barred upon the outside, was of oak, firmly riveted 
together. 

An hour, and perhaps more, had passed away after 
our hero had been thrust within the dungeon when the 
bolts of his door were withdrawn, and as the door 
swung open, Mr. Roswell Berkley entered the cell. Mr. 
Berkley was a stout-built, middle aged man, of rather 
a commanding appearance but with a countenance far 
from prepossessing. 

As soon as Berkley entered, the door was closed be- 
hind him, and after gazing upon the young man for a 
few minutes, as though his eyes had not yet got used 
to the dim light of the place, he said : 

Young sir, this is a heavy crime of which you are 
charged ; but yet I trust you may go clear. I can 
hardly persuade myself to believe that you are guilty 
of actual murder, for you are yet too young to have 
cherished such criminal feelings.” 

“ Then why do you accuse me of it ? ” asked Orlando. 


54 


A DARK PLOT. 


“ I could not well have done otherwise, for this case 
is a peculiar one. Lolowah was not only of much ser- 
vice to the authorities, but he was also extensively 
known and beloved among the friendly Indians about 
us ; and if his violent death were to pass unnoticed by 
us, it would not only alienate the confidence of his red 
brothers, but it might bring down their wrath upon us. 
The two men who saw you bury your victim spread the 
intelligence abroad and I could do no less than I have 
done. But I trust you will yet be able to clear your- 
self.” 

“ If there be justice in the colony I certainly shall,” 
returned Orlando. The red man fell a victim to his 
own intended crime.” 

‘‘I hope you can prove it,” said Berkley, in half 
doubting tone. 

Hope I can prove it ! ” reiterated the youth, with a 
flush of indignation. “ Do you mean to taunt me, sir? 
Hope I can prove it ! You know that my eye, and that 
of God alone, saw the deed ; my tongue alone can 
speak of what took place when the red man fell.” 

‘‘If I remember rightly what Gilman and Colton 
said, the Indian spoke some words to you after he 
fell.” 

“ You understand rightly, then.” 

“And what did he say?” asked Berkley, with an 
evident attempt to conceal the earnestness which he 
manifested. 

“ He said he was dying — that my eye was too quick 
for him ; and he asked me to bury him.” 

“ Did he say nothing else ? ” 

“Nothing to speak of. He gave me no communica- 
tion for other ears than my own,” 


A DARK PLOT. 


55 


“ You say the Indian was preparing to shoot you ? ” 

“ I do say so, sir.” 

‘‘ Then did you not ask him why he had attempted 
your life ? ” 

“ Yes.” ^ 

“ And what was his answer ? ” 

“ The Indian endeavored to excuse himself, but there 
was murder on his soul.” 

“ But what excuse did he offer ? ” 

“ He offered none.” 

You said but now he did.” 

“ I said he endeavored to do so ; but as what he 
offered could be no excuse for my assassination, ’twould 
benefit you not to know what he said.” 

“ What ! Do you mean to insult me ? ” exclaimed 
Berkley, entirely losing sight of his self-control, and 
bursting into a passion. ‘‘Do you mean to refuse to 
answer my questions?” 

“I have answered them all,” quietly replied Or- 
lando. 

“ But you answer them not plainly. I asked you 
what the Indian told you as a reason for attempting 
your life ? ” 

“ And now I will answer you,” returned Orlando, 
while the fire began to sparkle in his eye. “ To you I 
will speak no word of what he said ! Is that plain ? ” 

“ ’Tis too plain for your own good. Master Chester,” 
muttered Berkley, “ for your own unwillingness to re- 
veal the facts stamps you as the murderer of Lolowah. 
When we meet again I wot that you will be somewhat 
humbled.” 

As Berkley spoke he turned and left the cell. There 
•\va,s a meaning fire in his eye — a serpent-like look — as 


56 


A DARK PLOT. 


he cast his glance back upon the prisoner; and when 
at length the bolts were once more shoved into their 
sockets, the young hunter felt that he had met with 
one who, to say the leasf, bore him no good will. 

The last rays of the sun were resting upon the prison 
wall when the door of the cell was opened and a small 
loaf and a mug of water were silently placed upon his 
stool. After the door had been again fastened upon 
him, Orlando took the loaf and mug in his hands, and 
seated himself upon the stool. 

The bread was yet warm, having evidently been but 
a short time from the oven ; but the prisoner felt not 
like eating, for the excitement he had undergone, and 
the fearful conjectures that had just been working 
through his brain, made him sick at heart, and he laid 
the food upon the floor. Of the water, however, he 
partook, for his lips were parched and dry. 

Ere long Orlando Chester stretched his weary limbs 
upon the hard, rough couch, and as a sensation of 
drowsiness began to creep over him he was startled by 
a low grating noise by his .side. He startled up and 
peered through the gloom that was gathering about 
him, but he could ^ee nothing. Again the sound struck 
upon his ear, seeming to come from the floor, and on 
looking down he could just distinguish the outlines of 
two or three large rats gnawing away at his bread. At 
first he thought of driving them away, but he wanted 
no food for himself then, and as they would probably 
bring him more in the morning, he determined that he 
would let the rats have their fill, and with this idea he 
sank back upon his couch, and fell asleep^ 


A DARK PLOT. 


57 


CHAPTER IX. 

STRANGE EFFECTS OF THE RATS’ REPAST. 

Our young hero slept during most of the night, but 
yet that sleep was dreamy and uneasy, and when at 
length the daybeams began to peep through the win- 
dows, he arose from his dark couch and commenced 
pacing the floor of his dungeon. A dozen turns, per- 
haps, had he taken, when the thought of the rats he 
had left at work on his bread entered his mind, and he 
turned to observe the result of their operations. The 
loaf had been nearly all eaten, and Orlando was on the 
point of resuming his walk, when something at the foot 
of his couch arrested his attention, which, upon a closer 
observation he found to be a dead rat, and at a short 
distance from it, nearer to a small hole in the corner of 
the cell through which the animals had evidently made 
their way, he found another of the little quadrupeds, 
which was also dead. 

Hardly had he made this discovery when the bolts of 
his own door were withdrawn, and on looking up he 
beheld the gigantic form of Chiron enter the cell. 
With a bounding heart he sprang forward to meet the 
man whom he sincerely believed to be his friend. 

“ So, so,” uttered Chiron, as he shook the youth 
warmly by the hand, they’ve begun the work sooner 
than I expected,” 


58 


A DARK PLOT. 


^‘They’ve begun it, at all events,” returned Or- 
lando. 

‘‘Yes, and they came near accomplishing their pur- 
pose, too,” said Chiron. “I little thought that the 
game was to commence so soon, or I should have been 
on the watch. But how was it you escaped the 
Indian’s bullet ? Lolowah was a cunning fellow, and 
he had the reputation of being a fatal marksman.” 

“ He may have been a good marksman, but his eye 
was not quick enough,” returned Orlando, and then he 
went on to relate the particulars of the rencontre. 

Chiron’s eyes sparkled as the youth told his story ; 
and when it was closed he exclaimed : 

“ By my faith, Orlando, your eye must be a quick 
one. I had thought myself next to invulnerable, but I 
hardly think I should have escaped as you did. ’Twas 
indeed a narrow escape. But tell me, did not the In- 
dian speak to you ere he died ? ” 

“ Yes, he told me he never had aught against the 
white man, but that one of them gave him money and 
rum to kill me. They plied him with the firewater ber 
fore they sent him on his mission, and I really believe 
the poor fellow was sorry for the part he had taken 
against me.” 

“ No doubt he was,” said Chiron, “ but he was the 
tool of a subtle enemy. Have you told any one else of 
the Indian’s avowal ? ” 

“No. You are the first one to whom I have com- 
municated it, though the two men, Gilman and Colton, 
who dogged me in the woods, tried to get it from me, 
and yesterday Mr. Berkley plied me most assiduously 
to the same end ; and in my poor mind I have come to 


A DARK PLOT, 59 

the conclusion that all three of them know more of the 
red man’s missioi^. than becomes honest men.” 

“ Berkley ! ” uttered Chiron, with a start of surprise. 

Has he been here ? ” 

Yes ; and he threatened me, too, because I would 
not tell him what Lolowah said to me. Are you ac- 
quainted with this Berkley ? ” 

“ I have seen him often, and I know somewhat of his 
history,” replied Chiron, in a sort of thoughtful mood. 

And who is he ? ” asked Orlando. 

‘‘ He became rich by the death of a rich brother, and 
his riches have made him proud. Sir Wallace Berkley 
and Roswell Berkley came to Virginia many years ago, 
and the former amassed a large fortune, but his health 
seemed to be on the decline and he resolved to return 
to England, partly on business, and partly for his 
health ; but before he went he made his will, bequeath- 
ing all his property to his brother, and then he went to 
England and died. Thus Roswell came into possession 
of one of the most valuable estates in the colony ; but 
with all his wealth he has been of but little service to 
the colony, for he is avaricious and the niggardly inutile 
extreme, revengeful in his disposition, and capable of 
stooping to the lowest means to accomplish his ends.” 

‘‘ And is it he^ then, who is persecuting me ? ” asked 
Orlando, in an earnest tone. 

‘^1 think it is.” 

‘‘ And what in the whole scope of earthly reasons 
can he have against me ? How have I ever come in 
contact with his interests or how offended him ? ” 

For several moments Chiron remained in a silent, 
thoughtful mood ; but at length he said, steadily look- 
ing into the face of his young companion ; 


6o 


A DARK PLOT. 


“That Roswell Berkley is your enemy is most true, 
but I have reason to believe that he is at the bottom of 
this attempt upon your life ; but why he is thus, I may 
not now tell you, for I have much to clear up yet be- 
fore I can understand it all myself. But while you are 
here you have nothing to fear from him ; and when you 
get out from here we will take measures to secure you 
against danger.” 

“ And you think I have nothing to fear while here in 
prison ? ” 

“ Most assuredly not ; for you shall not be convicted 
for this crime.” 

“ Chiron,” said the young man, in a serious meaning 
tone, while a peculiar shade passed over his countenance, 
“ last night the jailor brought to me a small loaf of 
bread and a mug of water. The bread I could not eat, 
for I had no appetite ; so I laid it carelessly upon the 
floor, and shortly afterwards I laid down on my couch. 
Presently I was startled by the sound of something 
near me, and on looking over upon the floor I saw 
two rats gnawing my bread. I watched them until 
the gathering darkness hid them from my sight, and 
then I went to sleep. This morning they had eaten my 
bread most all up.” 

“ Well ! ” uttered Chiron, somewhat startled by the 
young man’s manner, “and what of that? There is 
enough more bread.” 

“ Perhaps there is. But look,” said Orlando, as he 
pointed to the two dead rats, “ there lie the poor fel- 
lows, as I found them this morning, stiff and dead ! ” 

“ Dead ! ” iterated Chiron, starting from his position, 
and gazing first upon the rats and then upon his com- 


A DARK PLOT, 6 1 

panion. ‘‘ Dead ! By heavens ! a rat even could not 
have died without a cause. Is the bread all gone ? ” 

“ No, here is a portion of it,” returned Orlando, as he 
picked up what remained of the loaf. 

‘‘Is there any water in your mug?” asked Chiron, 
after he had gazed for some time upon the bread. 

“ There is a little,” answered the youth, and as he 
spoke he took the mug from his stool and brought it for- 
ward. 

Chiron took the mug, and carefully crumbled the bread 
into it as finely as he could between his thumb and 
finger, and having accomplished this he stirred the 
whole quite briskly for a moment or two ; then he let 
it stand till the bread had mostly settled. He spoke 
not a word while he was engaged in this work, but 
the eager look which dwelt upon his countenance, and 
the fiashes that shot from his keen eyes, told that he 
was deeply interested in his experiment. As soon as 
the mug had stood long enough for the saturated bread 
to settle, Chiron took his knife and began slowly to 
stir the mess up again ; and this he carefully continued 
until the bread and water had become mixed into a sort 
of pulp, and then he cautiously turned it off on to the 
floor. 

As soon as the bread and water were all out of the 
mug, Chiron took the vessel to the window and care- 
fully examined its inside. 

“Come here, Orlando,” he exclaimed, while his eyes 
sparkled more intensely than ever. “ There, look in 
there ! ” 

“Well, and what is it ? ” 

“ Do you not see that fine white sediment ? ” 

“ That which glistens so ? ” 


62 


A DARK PLOT, 


‘‘ Yes.” 

‘‘ Yes, I see it.” 

“ And that is arsenic ! There must have been enough 
in that loaf to have killed a dozen men. And ’twas 
meant for you, for the loaf could not have been long 
made.” 

‘‘No, ’twas new last night, for ’twas warm when 
the jailor placed it in here ” 

“Then is his villany hard upon you, even here,” 
exclaimed Chiron. “ But you shall not be long thus, 
for I will tear the old jail down about their ears ere its 
walls shall hold you in contact with such danger. 
Here is bread of mine — ’twill last you till you can get 
some safer to eat than was that. By my faith, but 
those poor rats have done humanity a good service, 
at all events. ’Tis a pity, though, that the fatal experi- 
ment could not have been tried upon him who com- 
pounded the infernal dose.” 

As Chiron spoke he took from his pouch several 
slices of bread and venison, and Orlando was just 
upon the point of making some remark when the jailor 
put his head in at the door and informed the visitor 
that the time allowed for his visit to the prisoner had 
expired. 

“ Here, sir ! Look ye here ! ” exclaimed Chiron, in 
an authoritative tone, as the jailor stood waiting for 
him to come out. 

There was that about the towering form and the 
imperative look of the old hunter that made the jailor 
almost forget his own right to command on the premises, 
and without hesitation he entered the cell. 

“Was it you, sir, that brought this prisoner his food 
last night? ” asked Chiron. 


A DARK PLOD 


^3 


“Yes,” returned the jailor. 

“And was that loaf of bread prepared in this jail? ” 

“No, sir, it was not,” answered the jailor, with con- 
siderable perturbation, “but I trust you will not ex- 
pose me for thus overstepping the bounds of my duty. 
All the bread in the jail was hard and mouldy, and as 
the gentleman kindly offered to send the young man a 
warm loaf, I could not find it in my heart to refuse 
him” 

“Who was the gentleman who sent it?” asked 
Chiron. 

“ Well, sir,” said the jailor, with some hesitancy, “ it 
was Mr. Berkley.” 

Mr. Roswell Berkley ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Now, Orlando, you are pretty sure of one friend at 
least,” said Chiron, casting upon the youth a look of 
deep meaning : and,” continued the old hunter in a 
low tone that could not reach the ears of the jailor, 
“ this is no place for you. Keep up a good heart, for 
there is no danger.” 

This last remark was delivered in a low tone ; and 
giving the youth a hearty shake of the hand, the old 
hunter turned and followed the jailor from the cell. 


64 


A dark: plot. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE VILLAIN IS CORNEKED. 

When Chiron left the jail he stood for some moments 
in the road engaged in deep meditation. That Mr. 
Berkley had intended to have poisoned Orlando he had 
not the least doubt, but yet he resolved to make as- 
surance doubly sure,” and with this view he took his 
way at once toward Roswell Berkley’s house. That 
gentleman was in his dining-room, and when Chiron 
entered he found him pacing the floor in anything but 
an easy or unconcerned manner. 

“ Ha ! who are you, sir, that comes thus unbidden 
upon my privacy ! ” he exclaimed, starting back in a 
sort of frightened amazement, as his eyes rested upon 
the huge proportions of the new-comer. 

“ I think you have seen me before,” coolly returned 
Chiron, as he set his ponderous rifle against the panel- 
ing of the wall. 

Seen you, sir?” uttered the agent, still trembling 
before the powerful hunter. I have met you in the 
street, but wherefore do you thus intrude upon me un- 
announced. Do you take my residence for a common 
inn ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, no ! One of the servants in the yard told me 
that you were in this room, and he also had the kind- 
ness to offer to call you out, but as my business was 


A DARK PLOD 65 

somewhat of a private nature, I dispensed with his 
services.” 

Then, sir, I trust you will get through with your 
business as soon as possible,” said Mr. Berkley. 

The old hunter bent a keen searching glance upon 
the man before him, and asked: 

“ Have you heard that the young man, whom you 
had confined in the jail yesterday, is dead? ” 

“ Young Chester, do you mean?” 

Yes, Orlando Chester.” 

No, I had not heard of it. When did he die ? ” 

Oh, he is not dead yet ! ” 

‘‘And is he sick?” asked Berkley, with an impa- 
tience which he could not hide. 

“ No, he was never better in his life.” 

A single instant Roswell Berkley gazed into the calm 
features of his gigantic visitor, and then while a sud- 
den tremor shook his frame, he grasped the back of his 
chair for support. 

“Villain! scoundrel I” uttered the agent at length, 
“ What mean you by this taunting ? ” 

“ It seems to affect you wonderfully, sir,” said ChirojJ, 
in a sarcastic tone. 

“ I had thought the poor youth might be in reality 
dead, and it is no wonder such a result Avould have 
moved me,” returned Mr. Berkley, suddenly changing 
his manner to one of the utmost solicitude. 

“ There was a death in the jail last night,” said 
Chiron, “ and I knew not but you might have heard it. 
Two rats died in young Chester’s cell.” 

“ Sirrah ! ” cried Berkley, bursting into a rage, 
“have done with your impudent tooling; and if you 
have aught to say, say it quickly, for I would be alone.” 


66 


A DARK PLOT. 


“ But I have not done with the rats yet.” 

Silence, sir ! ” almost screamed the enraged man, 
“ or I will have you cast into the street as I would a 
mad dog.” 

‘‘Those rats, sir,” resumed Chiron, with the most 
imperturbable coolness, “ ate most of the bread which 
was left for young Chester last night, and I should not 
wonder if that caused their death. At any rate, I 
think the matter had better be inquired into.” 

“And was the bread all eaten? Was there any part 
of it left? ” asked Berkley. 

“ There was a small piece left, but it was destroyed 
and thrown away.” 

Roswell Berkley breathed more freely as he heard 
this, and after collecting his seemingly scattered senses, 
he asked : 

“ Who told you of this affair? ” 

“I saw it myself.” 

“Yourself? And do you mean to say that you have 
been admitted to the jail ? ” 

“Certainly I liave. I had business with young 
Chester, and received permission to visit him. Is there 
anything strange in that ? ” 

“ Oh, no,” returned Berkley, with considerable em- 
barrassment. “Then you are acquainted with the 
young man ? ” 

“Yes, I have seen him,” said Chiron, “and I feel 
some interest in his welfare.” 

“ Young Chester has a mother living, I am told.” 

“ He has,” returned Chiron, again resuming his keen 
gaze upon the countenance of his host. 

“And do you know her? ” 

“ Yes. I have seen her at her house in the woods.” 


A DARK PLOT. 


67 


“ They tell me she is crazy.” 

‘‘Then they told you part truly and part falsely. 
The poor woman’s mind is shattered, but she is far 
from being crazy.” 

“ Since I have been the means of having this poor 
woman’s son arrested, and as he may never protect her 
more, I believe I must take some measures to provide 
for her welfare. It is hardly right that she suffer for 
the sins of her son.” 

There was something so mean, so serpent-like in the 
tone and manner of Berkley, and his desire to get the 
poor maniac mother within his power was so evident, 
that Chiron could no longer contain his deep indigna- 
tion, and while his eyes flashed like starting meteors, 
he exclaimed: 

“ Roswell Berkley, you have managed to get young 
Chester within the walls of the prison-house, and you 
have managed, too, to fasten upon him the imputation 
of a dark crime ; but you need not waste your syco- 
phantic fears upon his fate, for Orlando Chester will 
not long remain in your clutches. He is innocent of 
all crime, and you yourself know it well. The red 
man who fell beneath his fatal rifle was the unfortunate 
victim of tlie base villain who set him upon his bloody 
work. Tell me, you shameless, heartless man, if you 
think such a diabolical plot as has been hatched up 
against young Chester can escape the revealing light 
of day — and tell me, too, if you think its perpetrator 
can escape the retribution of his incensed and outraged 
God? And now, not content with what has already 
been done, you would fasten your poisonous grasp 
upon poor Morgiana Chester ! Roswell Berkley, if you 
dare to lay a finger upon that woman, or if you issue 


68 


A DARK PLOT, 


an attempt against her, you shall surely rue it. The 
lives of two thousand like yourself were not worth one 
moment of that maniac mother’s peace. Now beware ! 
I know that for some cause you seek young Chester’s 
ruin, but I’ll yet show you that you have counted 
without your host, for I’ll blow your flimsy fabric to . 
the wind, and yourself I’ll give to the justice that de- 
mands you.” 

Like a whipped cur did Roswell Berkley quail before 
the towering form of the old hunter. His face was 
pale, and his lips trembled with a slavish fear. Twice 
he attempted to speak, but the words stuck in his 
throat, and while yet Chiron gazed flxedly upon him 
he sank into a chair. 

‘‘Villain,” uttered the huuter between his teeth. “I 
know you for what you are, and I know now where to 
meet you. You asked me if the bread was all gone 
that was given to the young prisoner last night. I 
found a piece of it, and analyzed it, and I found it to 
contain a most deadly poison, and, sir, I know that 
you prepared it, and that you sent it theye.” 

These last words seemed to recall Berkley to his 
senses, for with the balls almost starting from their eye- 
sockets, he sprang from his chair. His face was livid 
with rage, and his whole frame trembled beneath the 
most intense excitement. With a nervous movement, 
he placed his hand in his bosom, and as his eyes 
sparkled with a cat-like gleam, he suddenly drew forth 
a pistol. 

“ Now, dog, go tell your story to the angels of the 
other world. You’ll never repeat it on this earth.” 

With a movement, as quick as it was powerful, the 
hunter sprang forward and caught the weapon from 


A DARK PLOT, 69 

Berkley’s grasp, and then he dashed the villain to the 
floor. 

“ I gave yon not credit for so much courage,” said 
Chiron, as Berkley raised himself upon his elbow, 

A moment more the old hunter gazed upon the pros- 
trate man, and then casting the pistol out through an 
open Avindow, he turned and left the apartment. 


70 


A DARK PLOT. 


CHAPTER XL 

THE EIFLE SHOT. 

The shades of evening were settling with a cooling, 
grateful influence over the river plantations, and as the 
day began to fall Ada Wimple left her garden and 
entered the house. She had just taken ^ book and 
seated herself by the lamp near which her mother sat, 
when her father entered the room. 

‘‘My child,” said he, “you must give up all thoughts 
of the youth who saved you from the Indians, for he is 
not what you thought him.” 

“You do not mean Orlando Chester? ” said Ada. 

“Yes, Ada. Orlando Chester is even now in jail 
under charge of murder.” 

“ Murder ? ” shrieked the fair girl. “ No, no, you do 
not mean that.”" 

“Young Chester is in jail for having murdered Lolo- 
wah, an Indian interpreter and messenger,” replied 
Sir Oliver. 

“ And, surely you do not believe him guilty of such 
a crime,” uttered the young girl, without a moment’s 
hesitation. “You cannot believe that he murdered tlie 
messenger” 

“ The evidence is very strong against the young man, 
and I fear that he will be convicted of the crime, and 
consequently you cannot wonder that I should wish to 
forget him.” 


A DARK PLOT. 7 1 

“ And does Orlando deny that he killed the Indian? ” 
she asked. 

No, he owns that he killed him, but he says he did 
it in self-defense.” 

“ Then,” said Ada, while a new light shone in her 
eyes, I believe that he did. Tell me, father, would 
you say that Orlando murdered those three Indians 
whom he shot to save my life ? ” 

“ Of course not, my child ; but this case is vastly 
different.” 

‘‘ It was only different in that he saved his own life 
instead of mine. No, no, father ; though every tongue 
but his own should tell me he was guilty of murder, 
I’d not believe them.” 

Further conversation was cut short by the report of 
a rifle near the house. Sir Oliver gently laid his daugh- 
ter’s hand from off his arm, and having seized his hat, 
he started forth to learn the cause of. this strange inter- 
ruption. The moon was shining brightly, and as the 
baronet stepped out upon the gravelled walk, he saw a 
gigantic figure, quietly leaning upon a rifle. 

“How now, stranger?” cried Sir Oliver, as he ap- 
proached the spot where stood the powerful form. As 
the baronet spoke the stranger turned toward him and 
revealed the features of Chiron. 

“ Your pardon. Sir Oliver, for this intrusion,” said 
the hunter, as he brought his rifle up under his arm 
and stepped forward a pace. 

“ Chiron ! ” uttered the baronet. 

“ Yes ; I was here, if you remember, when your 
daughter returned from her expedition up the river,” 
he replied. 

“I never could forget you,” said Sir Oliver, as he 


72 A DARK PLOT. 

measured with his eye the huge proportions of the hun- 
ter ; “ but v/hat means this disturbance — this rifle-shoot- 
ing about my premises ? ” 

I assure you, sir,” returned Chiron, with a smile, 
had I known that I was to have been made the mark 
of a rifle-bullet, I should have chosen some other spot 
than this upon which to have stood the fire ; but you 
know we seldom get sufficient warning of such events 
to admit of very choice arrangements.” 

‘‘What, sir?” exclaimed the baronet, in amazement, 
“ do you mean to say that you have been shot at ? ” 

“ I have, sir. There, do you see that boat just crawl- 
ing out from under that bank ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered Sir Oliver, looking in tlie direction 
pointed out. 

‘‘ Well, sir, there are two men in it, and they followed 
me up from the town. I took no notice of them, for I 
little thought they meant me harm ; but as I hauled 
my canoe up on to the bank and started toward your 
house, one of them fired at me. The ball whizzed past 
my head, and as I turned toward them they paddled 
under the bank and started back down the stream.” 

“ And have you any idea who they are ? ” 

“ Yes, I think I know. They are two men named 
Gilman and Colton.” 

“Gilman and Colton?” uttered the baronet, with a 
moment’s thought. “ Why, those are the two men who 
Mr. Berkley told me detected young Chester in the act 
of burying the body of the Indian.” 

“ Yes, they are the same ; and now they seem to wish 
that I were buried.” 

“ But there is some mystery in this affair. What 
means it all? ” 


A DARK PLOT, 


73 


“ Sir Oliver, I came here to-night for the express pur- 
pose of unravelling to you the whole plot ; and if you 
will give me an hour's time, I will tell you a tale that 
shall make you wonder at some things, and cease to 
wonder at others.” 

In a few moments the baronet had excused himself 
from his family and was seated in his private room with 
Chiron, and after turning the key in the door, the 
hunter began his story. 


74 


A DARK PLOT, 


CHAPTER XII. 

SECRET OF THE OLD OAKEN CHEST. 

Sir Oliver Wimple and Chiron were closeted over 
an hour, and when at length they came forth to the 
sitting-room, there was upon the face of the former a 
strange mingling of astonishment and gratification, 
while the latter, with a bright smile upon his features, 
seated himself by the side of Ada. 

Lady,” said he, as he gazed with an admiring 
friendly look into her handsome features, I have been 
requested by one who is now in prison to give to you 
his faithful remembrance, and he trusts that you will 
not despise him because fate has for the time abused 
him.” 

Then you, sir, know something of Orlando Ches- 
ter ? ” uttered Ada, without seeming to notice what he 
had said. 

“ I know that he is innocent of all crime, lady.” 

God be praised for that assurance,” murmured Ada, 
as she clasped her hands together, “ I knew that he 
could not be guilty.” 

And when I see him again, what shall I tell him of 
comfort from you ? ” 

‘‘Nothing, nothing,” quickly exclaimed the fair girl, 
while her eyes sparkled with a strange light. 

“ And will you send him no word ? ” asked Chiron, 
in astonishment. 


A DARK PLOT. 


75 


“No, words are treacherous conveyances of thought, 
when they come second-handed. I will go to Orlando’s 
cell myself ; and should ybu see him before I do, you 
may tell him this. He can ask no more.” 

“ No, and he would not have dared to have even 
hoped so much,” with a look of admiration. 

“ May I not go and see him ? ” asked Ada, as she 
arose from her seat and approached her father. 

“ Yes, my child,” returned the baronet, without hesi- 
tation. “ You were right in your assertion of the 
young man’s innocence, and you have my full permis- 
sion to render him all the comfort in your power.” 

The strange expression upon the countenance of her 
father caught Ada’s eye, and she asked him the cause ; 
but he shook his head in a sort of mysterious manner, 
remarking as he did so : 

“ What I have learned to-night, Ada, has only been 
entrusted in my keeping in case that Chiron should be 
taken away. Until within the last hour and a half a 
secret deeply concerning young Chester has been locked 
up in his own bosom, and he has only communicated it 
to me, so that, should some enemy’s rifle pick him off, 
as came very near being the case to-night, it might not 
be lost with himself. Let the assurance that Orlando 
is safe, satisfy you for the present.” 

“ Of course it will, my father, since you wish it, and 
I thank you, too,” said Ada. Then turning to Chiron, 
whom she regarded now almost with reverence, she 
said : 

“And will you convey to Orlando what I have 
said ? ” 

“ I will, lady,” answered Chiron ; and as he spoke, 
he arose from his chair, and took his cap. 


76 


A DARK PLOT. 


“But you are not going to-niglit? ” said Sir Oliver, 
as he noticed the movement of his guest. 

“ Yes, the moon will light me on my way,” replied 
the old hunter ; “ and I would be back early on the 
morrow.” 

Chiron took his way down to the river, and having 
launched his canoe, he leaped quickly into it, and pad- 
died swiftly up stream. The tide was in his favor, and 
in less than two hours he had reached the spot where 
Orlando’s canoe was concealed in the bushes, and hav- 
ing hauled his own up o-ut of sight, he struck off to- 
ward the young hunter’s cot. It was two hours after 
midnight when he reached the dwelling, and as the 
front door was fastened, he went round to the back 
part, where he knew old Elpsey slept. At first the old 
woman was considerably frightened, as she was aroused 
by the knocking of the hunter, but at length he suc- 
ceeded in making her understand that he was a friend,' 
and that he had a message from Orlando. 

At the mention of this last circumstance, old Elpsey 
uttered a cry of delight, and bidding the hunter go 
round to the front of the dwelling again, she unfast- 
ened the door and admitted him. 

“ — sh!” uttered Elpsey, as Chiron entered the 
dwelling; “don’t make any noise, ’cause dear missus 
just got to sleep. She has been ransacking de old chest 
again. But dear young massa — how is he ?” 

The old woman had at once recognized the hunter as 
he who had been there once before, and with whom 
Orlando had gone to Jamestown ; and she felt no hesi- 
tation in trusting him. 

“ Orlando is well,” returned Chiron, in answer to the 


A DARK PLOT. 


77 

old woman’s question, and he will return to you ere 
long.” 

“ Den they won’t hang him? ” 

Hang him ? Why, what should put such an idea 
into your head ? ” 

O, Massa Orlando tell me all ’bout what dey take 
him for.” 

As Elpsey spoke, she went into the kitchen, and in a 
few moments returned with a lighted candle and 
showed the hunter the ladder which led up into the 
garret. Chiron thanked her for her kindness, and after 
bidding her a good-night, he set his rifle against the 
fireplace and ascended the ladder. 

As soon as he- reached the landing, he set his candle 
down, and having pulled off his heavy moccasins, 
threw himself upon the bed. He removed none of his 
clothing, nor did he seem inclined to fall asleep, for 
with his head resting on his hand, so as to leave both 
ears free, he eagerly listened for the sounds that came 
up from below. He could hear the deep breathing of 
Morgiana Chester, for the door of her room was open, 
and the night was calm and quiet ; and he could hear 
Elpsey, too, still lumbering around in the kitchen in 
her stockinged feet. Still the hunter listened, and at 
length he heard the old woman get into her bed. A 
few moments Chiron waited to assure himself that all 
about the house was still ; then he slipped quietly from 
the bed, took the candle in his hand, and silently de- 
scended the ladder. At the foot he listened for a 
moment, and then stole carefully toward the old oaken 
chest. He tried the cover, and a low murmur of dis- 
appointment escaped his lips as he found that it was not 
only locked, but that the key was not there. 


78 


A DARK PLOT. 


“It must be in Morgiana’s own room, somewhere,’* 
uttered Chiron to himself, as he turned and looked to- 
ward the open door that led to Mrs. Chester’s sleeping- 
room. “ I would not waken her for the world, but yet 
I must make the trial, for Orlando must be released 
from that jail, and that, too, speedily.” 

Thus speaking to himself, the powerful hunter moved 
noiselessly toward the small room before him, taking 
care to shed the light so that its beams should not pene- 
trate the kitchen. At the door he stopped and looked 
in. Morgiana was evidently under the influence of a 
sleep from which she could not be easily awakened. 
With an eager, searching gaze, the hunter peered about 
the room, but nowhere could he find the sought-for key. 
He lifted the various articles of clothing from their 
respective hanging-places, examined a small box that 
lay upon Mrs. Chester’s dressing-table, and moved back 
the table itself, but nowhere did the key appear. 

Chiron began to fear that his search would be fruit- 
less, and already was almost disheartened. .He stood 
near the bed, with his hand interposed between the 
blaze of the candle and the sleeper ; gradually, how- 
ever, he let the light fall upon the sleeping form of 
Morgiana, but with no other view than to gain one 
more look upon those features that had called up in his 
bosom such strange and powerful emotions of afi'ection. 
A tear stole to the eye of the strange man, as he gazed 
upon those beautiful features, and for a moment he 
almost forgot the object of his visit, as a silent prayer 
wended its way out from his heart. 

Chiron was upon the point of turning sadly away, 
when a small black ribbon upon Morgiana's neck ar- 
rested his attention, and the thought that the key 


A DARK PLOT, 


79 


might be attached to it, instantly entered his mind. 
But how was he to get it? Were Mrs. Chester to learn 
of the secret she had lost, in her present state of mind, 
it might ruin all his hopes, and blast her own and her 
son’s future prospect ; but still, if the key was upon 
that ribbon, he felt that he must have it, and stepping 
nearer to the bed, he carefully examined the object that 
had caught his eye. With a hand trembling beneath 
the excitement of the occasion, the hunter took the 
ribbon in his hand, and carefully he drew it out from 
beneath the clothing that covered it. There was a key 
upon it ! Chiron waited a moment in deep study as to 
how he should gain possession of the key, now that he 
had found it. There was but one way, and that was, 
to cut the ribbon. Fortunately, the place where it was 
knotted, was in sight, and drawing his hunting-knife 
from its sheath, he bent over and cut the knot in two, 
and then drew off the key. A single instant he re- 
mained to see if he had disturbed the sleeper, but find- 
ing that she moved not, he again placed his hand before 
the blaze of the candle, and glided noiselessly back to 
the main apartment. 

Chiron set the candle down in a chair by the side of 
the old oaken chest, and then he placed the key in the 
lock; he turned it — it fitted! With a steady hand he 
urged the bolt back, so that not even a sound broke the 
air, and then he slowly, noiselessly lifted the cover. 
The various articles in the chest were packed away with 
care and precision, but Chiron touched them not. 

‘‘ Poor Morgiana ! ” murmured he to himself, as he 
stood and gazed into the chest ; ‘‘ what a strange freak 
it must have been that could thus have taken your 
secret from you, and yet have left you so vivid a recol- 


8o 


A DARK PLOT. 


lection of its existence. How many times have you 
searched this old depository through and through, and 
yet left the task in disappointment.” 

As the hunter spoke, he cast a furtive glance about 
him, and then bending over, he placed his fingers upon 
one of the hinge-plates that was screwed to the cover. 
The hinges were of stout iron, and the plates — oiie 
fastened to the body of the chest, and the other to the 
cover — were long and wide, and apparently, well stud- 
ded with screws. Having satisfied himself that he had 
hit upon the right spot, Chiron drew from his pocket a 
small screw-driver, and applying it to one of the screw- 
heads near the end of the plate, he turned it half 
round ; then he placed his thumb upon the head of the 
screw next to it, which he easily slid from its place, 
and, from the sound that accompanied the motion, evi- 
dently moving a small bolt at the same time. This 
having been accomplished, he removed his thumb to 
the end of the plate, and, pressing hard upon it, a sec- 
tion of the iron surface flew back, revealing a small 
chamber, not over an inch deep, within which was 
enclosed a small roll of parchment. 

With an eager movement Chiron grasped the parch- 
ment, unrolled it, and held it down to the candle. A 
bright, joyous light overspread his features as he ran 
his eyes over the characters that were traced thereon, 
and with a pleasant ‘‘Thank God!” he rolled -it up 
again, and placed it carefully in his bosom. Then he 
shut the little chamber thus strangely opened, moved 
the seeming screw-heads back to their former position, 
closed the chest, and relocked it, leaving it as it was 
before. 

Once more the old hunter took up his candle, and 


A DARK PLOT, 


8i 

turned his steps toward the small sleeping-room. Mor- 
giana had not moved, but, all unconscious of what was 
going on about her, she slept in peaceful quiet. Gently 
setting the candle upon the small work-table, Chiron 
bent over the sleeping woman ; and having carefully 
cleared the ends of the ribbon from the remains of the 
former knot, he slipped the key back to its wonted 
place, and knotted it anew, so that no one could tell 
from its looks that it had been disturbed. One more 
moment that strange man gazed upon the sweet, an- 
gelic face before him ; then took his candle and stole 
noiselessly back to his bed in the garret. 

6 


\ 


82 


A DARK PLOT. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

A STEANGE VISIT, WITH A STRANGE RESULT. 

It was on the same night that Chiron visited the 
maniac mother’s cot in the forest, that Orlando Chester 
had thrown himself upon the couch, and had been half 
buried in an uneasy, fitful slumber; but how long he 
had been thus he could not tell, when he was startled 
by a sort of thumping noise upon the wall, and as he 
gradually regained his sleep-scattered senses, he became 
aware that the sound proceeded from a point directly 
beneath his window. 

The thumping sound soon ceased, and Orlando was 
pretty sure that a ladder had been placed against the 
wall, and ill that opinion he was presently confirmed by 
the appearance of a human head at the window ; and, 
from a few faint glimmering beams that shot up from 
below, he judged that there was not only a lantern out- 
side, but that someone was holding it. The individual 
who had thus appeared at the window said not a word ; 
but, as near as our hero could tell through the dark- 
ness, he turned and drew up something after him, 
which, from its sound as it thumped against the wall, 
seemed to be a heavy iron bar. 

Orlando could only gain the outlines of the stranger, 
and his only clue to these strange proceedings was 
gained from the sound that accompanied them. At 
length the prisoner became aware that a beam was being 


A DARK PLOT. 


83 


forced between the bars of the window, and in a moment 
more he knew that the bars were being forced from 
their sockets. Fifteen minutes had thus passed, when 
the gratings had been all forced out, and then the man 
disappeared from the window, and the prisoner thought 
he could hear the hum of a hurried conversation going 
on below. In a few moments, however, the man reap- 
peared, bearing in his hand a small dark-lantern, and 
by means of a rope which he had drawn up after him, 
and the end of which he threw over the sill, he let him- 
self down into the cell. The new-comer was a thick-set, 
muscular man, habited in the rough garb of a seaman. 

For a few moments after the stranger had thus 
gained entrance to the cell he bent his ears toward the 
door, as if to assure himself that all was quiet within 
the jail, and then turning toward Orlando, he said : 

‘‘ Rather a strange way for a man to get himself into 
jail, but circumstances alter cases, you know ; and as I 
know my visit will be welcome, I sha’n’t stop to make 
any apologies.” 

Well, and what might be your business?” 

‘‘ Can’t you guess it ? ” 

“ I never guess at a man’s business when he is pres- 
ent to speak for himself.” 

But of course you know what my business must 

be.” 

‘‘ How should I ? You have not told me.” 

No, but there’s an old saying that ‘actions' speak 
louder than words.’ Now, ’tain’t very likely that I 
would have taken the trouble to break away the bars 
of your jug just for the sake of coming in here, unless I 
had calculated that when I went out you would go 
too.” 


84 


A DARK PLOT. 


‘‘ Do you mean that you have come to set me at lib- 
erty ? ” uttered our hero, while a peculiar series of lights 
and shades passed over his countenance. 

‘‘ That is exactly what I come for,” returned the 
stranger with a countenance indicative of nothing but 
an idea of common business. 

“ But I never saw you before,” said Orlando, as he 
gazed inquiringly into the face of the man before him. 

“ Neither did I ever see you before,” laconically re- 
plied the stranger. 

“ Then why should I trust you ? ” 

“ Because I come to set you free.” 

“ But there is such a thing as ‘jumping from the fry- 
ing pan into the fire,’ ” said our hero, in a sort of 
thoughtful mood. 

“ Yes, I grant it ; such, for instance, as jumping out 
of jail on to the gallows,” returned the stranger, with a 
twinkling smile. 

The youth shuddered as he heard this remark, but 
quickly casting off the feeling, he said : 

“But there is no danger that such a fate will be 
mine, for I am perfectly innocent of the crime with 
which I am charged, and I can prove it.” 

“ That you are innocent, young sir, I have not the 
least doubt, though to prove it may not be so easy. 
But come, we are wasting time. If you will but follow 
me, all danger is at an end.” 

“ But wherefore should I follow you? I know you 
not.” 

“ Do you know Chiron ? ” 

“ Chiron — yes. He is my friend.” 

“ Chiron sent me on this mission.” 

“But why did he not come himself?” 


A DARK PLOT, 


85 


“ Because he had other business.” 

He might at least have left me a word,” said Or- 
lando, half to himself, for a shade of suspicion that all 
was not right had passed through his mind. 

“ He had no chance to leave you word,” returned the 
stranger, seeming to comprehend what was passing in 
the youth’s mind. 

“ But he did not send any writing — any token ? ” 

“ Only myself. He thought that would be sufficient. 
I met him just at sundown, and he told me that you 
must be relieved from the jail this night, and out of an 
old friendship for him I undertook the job ; and now if 
you would have me make sure of it, the sooner you 
come along the better.” 

‘‘ Look ye here,” said Orlando, while the dawning of 
a new idea seemed to flash upon him, have you known 
Chiron long? ” 

The stranger averted his eyes for a moment, and he 
seemed to hesitate for an answer; but at length, he 
said, while he endeavored to have his hesitancy pass for 
a period of thought : 

“ I’ve known him off and on for a number of years.” 

“ And do you know who he is — from whence he 
comes — or where he belongs ? ” asked the prisoner, with 
considerable earnestness. 

The stranger’s face brightened up, and a meaning 
twinkle played in his eyes, as he answered : 

If Chiron hasn’t told you this himself, I hadn’t 
ought to tell it, either, for perhaps he has reasons for 
concealing it.” 

Young Chester mistrusted not this answer, for he 
thought it was given in good faith, and once more he 
turned his thoughts upon the object of the present visit, 


86 


A DARK PLOT, 


and for some moments he seemed undecided what course 
to pursue. At length he said : 

“ I am obliged to you, sir, for the kindness and solici- 
tude you have manifested in my behalf ; but I cannot 
go with you, for ’twould only serve to make appear- 
ances bear harder against me than they do now. As it 
is, I can prove my innocence ; but if I attempt to 
escape, that innocence will thereby become more doubt- 
ful.” 

A deep shade of disappointment passed over the 
stranger’s countenance, and for a moment he seemed to 
hesitate, but gradually a beam of intelligence shot 
athwart his features, and in a tone of considerable feel- 
ing, he said : 

‘‘I think you’ll change your mind.” 

Not without some stronger inducement than my 
own personal safety,” returned Orlando, with consider- 
able assurance. 

“ And such an inducement I can easily give you. 
You have a poor maniac mother.” 

“ Ha, my mother ! ” exclaimed the young hunter, 
starting forward and grasping his companion by the 
arm ; “ what of her ? ” 

‘‘ She moans for you, and would see you ; and if you 
would not have her poor heart broken, you will go to 
her at once.” 

‘‘ Alas, my poor mother ! ” murmured the youth, as 
he placed his open palm upon his brow ; then turning 
to the stranger once more, he said, “ For my mother I 
will dare anything. I will go, though the officers seize 
me again to-morrow. Lead on, and I will follow you.” 

“ O, you needn’t be afraid of the officers,” returned 
the stranger, “ for Chiron will look out for that.” 


A DARK PLOT, 87 

“ But how can he prevent them from again arresting 
me ? ” 

‘‘ I don’t know, I’m sure. He didn’t explain any of 
his plans. But come, just lend me a hand to get this 
bed of yours up here under the window, and we’ll be 
out of this in short order. We have not got much time 
to lose.” 

The mention of his mother had made the young man 
as firm in his resolution to go as he had been before 
undecided ; and without hesitation he helped his com- 
panion move the couch up under the window, and 
while the latter was placing the stool on the top of the 
bed, Orlando said : 

‘‘ Since you have thus befriended me, I should like 
at least to know your name — that is, if you have no 
objections.” 

‘‘ Not in the least,” returned the stranger. “ My 
name is Dick Nolan. Come, here she goes. Follow me 
as soon as possible.” 

As Nolan spoke, he took his lantern and mounted 
upon the stool, from the top of which he threw himself 
across the sill of the window and soon disappeared. 
There was a strange fluttering about the heart of our 
hero, as he started to follow, and he even hesitated, as 
a dim, shadowy fear of treachery flitted through his 
mind ; but the image of his poor mother at once dis- 
pelled his indecision, and with a quick bound he 
mounted the stool. He found no difficulty in working 
his way through the aperture, and by means of a rope 
which he found in readiness, he let himself down to the 
ground, for the ladder by which his visitor had ascended 
had been removed to the wall, and thither Nolan at 


88 


A DARK PLOT. 


once led the way, where our hero found a man in 
waiting. 

‘‘ — sh!” uttered Nolan to his waiting companion. 
‘‘ It’s all right?” 

“Not a mouse has stirred,” returned the other, in a 
low whisper. 

“ Then over, quick,” said Nolan ; and then turning 
to Orlando, he bade him go next, and he would follow 
and pull the ladder up after him. 

Nolan’s companion and our hero reached the top of 
the wall and bent low down upon the coping, while 
Nolan himself came up and hauled the ladder after 
him, and as soon as it had been landed upon the other 
side, the trio silently descended. The moon was shin- 
ing somewhat brightly, and Orlando got a fair view of 
his deliverer’s companion, who was, like Nolan, habited 
in a seaman’s garb, and seemed also to be a reckless, 
daring fellow. 

The river was only a few rods from the jail wall, 
and toward its shore Nolan led the way to where a 
small skiff was found hauled up on the sand ; and as 
soon as it was launched the young hunter was requested 
to enter it. He seated himself in the sternsheets, and 
in a moment more Nolan and his companion entered 
and began to row from the shore. 

“ Up, up the stream should lay our course,” said 
Orlando, as he noticed that the boat was being headed 
down the river. 

“We’ll not venture by the town in this moonlight, 
for our cargo is rather contraband,” returned Nolan. 
“ I do not want that you should be taken from me, for 
the job of getting possession of you was by no means 
an easy one.” 


A DARK PLOT. 


89 


The young hunter looked up into Nolan’s face as he 
said this, and as he dwelt upon the seaman’s features 
he thought he could detect a look of irony resting 
there ; and the manner in which he had spoken, too, 
partook strangely of a nonchalance little in keeping 
with the tone of an earnest deliverer. 

Do you intend to land a little below the town and 
walk around the outskirts ?” asked the youth, not yet 
daring to suspect that he had been betrayed. 

‘^We sha’n’t land above the town at present,” re- 
turned Nolan, bending himself powerfully at the oar. 
‘‘Just consider yourself safe, and let that satisfy you.” 

Orlando Chester could see the countenances of both 
his companions, and as the moonbeams fell full upon 
them he was enabled to study well what meaning might 
rest upon them-, but he gained little from the survey, 
for they both seemed only intent upon the subject of 
their mission. What that subject might be, or what 
might be the end of that mission, he could not tell, 
though a strange doubt began to frame itself in his 
mind, and as the skiff was rowed swiftly on, farther 
and farther from the town, and that too, in an opposite 
direction from that which should have been taken to 
convey him to his home, these doubts grew stronger, 
until at length the fearful reality of a base treachery 
stared him in the face. 


90 


A DARK PLOT, 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE LEASHED VILLAIN. 

It was quite early in the morning when Chiron arose 
from his bed in the garret of the forest cot, and while 
in the act of putting on his moccasins he was not a 
little surprised at seeing the woolly head of old Elpsey 
just peering through the ladder scuttle. 

“ What’s the matter, Elpsey ? ” he asked as he ap- 
proached the scuttle. 

O sir, I don’t know what’s de matter, but dere’s 
some men in de woods, dat’s been watchin’ de house 
for dis half hour.” 

‘‘Men watching the house ! ” repeated 'Chiron, while 
the working of the chords and muscles about his neck 
and hands bespoke the feelings which the communica- 
tion had called up. “ How many are there ? ” 

“ I didn’t see only three.” 

“ And what did they look like, Elpsey ? ” 

“I couldn’t say for sartin, sir, ’cause dey was hid be- 
hind de bushes. But dey was watchin’ de house an’ I 
tink one ob ’em was de same dat come and watch for 
Massa Orlando when he went to bury the Indian.” 

“ Then by heavens, there’s some new plan on foot,” 
uttered the old hunter half to himself, “ and a villain- 
ous one, too. Go you down, Elpsey, and I will follow. 
But stop. Does your mistress know anything of this ? ” 


A DARK PLOT, 


91 


No, sir. She’s only just got up, an’ I didn’t say 
nothin’ to her ’bout it.” 

As the old woman spoke she descended the ladder, 
and Chiron soon followed her. In the room below he 
found Mrs. Chester, but she seemed to betray no sur- 
prise at his appearance, though she regarded him with 
a curious gaze. 

“ Ah, you, sir, have come from the town, have you 
not?” she asked, as Chiron took a few steps into the 
room. 

“ I have, madam,” the hunter answered, as he moved 
back a step to avoid the window which commanded a 
view of the wood in the front of the house. 

‘‘And have you seen my son?” the poor woman 
asked, stepping quickly toward and laying her hand 
upon Chiron’s arm. 

“ Yes, madam, and I bear to you a message from him, 
He is well and will ere long be with you.” 

“But why should he leave me thus? Why should 
Orlando desert me for so long ? ” exclaimed Mrs. Ches- 
ter, while a painful light shone in her eyes. 

“He has business in Jamestown,” returned the 
hunter, “ that he could not leave ; but he begged of me 
to give you his love, and assure you that he would soon 
return.” 

“ Then, my boy still loves me and he will come back. 
Ah, sir, his father said, too, that he loved me, and prom- 
ised to come back, but he never did. ’Twas cruel for 
him to treat me thus, was it not ? ” 

Again that plaintive, heart-broken voice thrilled 
through the soul of the hunter, and he turned away his 
head to hide the emotions he could not suppress. In a 
few moments Mrs. Chester turned toward the wall. 


92 


A DARK PLOT, 




where a wreath of garden anemone and aspen leaves 
was hung upon the top of a wooden cross, and she 
seemed to forget that a comparative stranger was pres- 
ent. Chiron took advantage of the movement, and 
sought Elpsey in the kitchen. 

Chiron had good reason to believe that if the men 
who were lurking about the house had any sinister pur- 
pose he was the object of it ; and for some moments he 
studied as to what course he should pursue. At length 
a course seemed laid out in his mind, and turning to 
Elpsey, he asked her to accompany him to the garden 
and remain there till he got out of sight in the woods ; 
for he could not but harbor the idea that if Gilman and 
Colton were about the spot, they had come for the pur- 
pose of assassinating him, but if no one were by to 
witness the deed they might shoot him before he could 
reach the woods. 

Elpsey promised implicit obedience to these requests, 
and the hunter stepped out from the house, followed by 
Elpsey, and after a few moments passed in careless 
conversation, he shouldered his rifle and started for the 
woods. 

Though Chiron walked swiftly on, yet he had his 
eyes about him, ready to catch the least movement that 
might be made against him ; but no such movement 
was made, and he reached the woods in safety. As soon 
as he proceeded far enough to feel assured that he was 
secure from observation, he left the path and ensconced 
himself behind a clump of alders, in such a position 
that he could command a view of the path and yet be 
hidden from the sight of any one who might pass 

The hunter had not been in this position more than 
five minutes, when his ear caught the sound of crack- 


A DARK PLOT, 


93 


ling bushes from the opposite side of the path, and in a 
moment more the villain Gilman emerged from the 
shrubbery. He was creeping along with a swift, but 
careful tread, with his rifle at rest, and peering along 
as though in search of some object for his ready weapon. 
Chiron’s first impulse was to shoot the villain on the 
spot, for well he knew ’twas him who fired at him the 
night before : but an instant’s reflection changed his 
mind, and while a grim smile passed over his features, 
he raised his rifle and took deliberate aim at the lock 
of Gilman’s piece. 

Chiron’s ball did not fail him and the villain uttered 
a sharp cry as he heard the report and felt his own rifle 
shattered from his grasp. In a moment, however, he 
seemed to comprehend that he was not hurt, save a 
few slight wounds from the splinters of his rifle stock ; 
and turning quickly around, he sought to ascertain 
from whence came the shot. 

“ So, so, Mr. Gilman, you are on another accidental 
expedition, I suppose ? ” ironically exclaimed Chiron, 
as he came forth from his hiding-place. 

The villain started back as he beheld the gigantic 
form of the old hunter, and for a moment he trembled 
with fear; but soon his native impudence came to his 
aid, and with a show of defiance, he said : 

I do not skulk about in the woods like a coward, 
at all events. If I wanted to shoot a person I’d meet 
him like a man, and not hide in the bushes to stab him 
in the back ; but your bungling aim has saved my life, 
and now you’ll suffer for this.” 

Chiron leaned quietly upon his rifle and gazed with 
the utmost contempt upon the villain before him. At 


94 


A DARK PLOD 


length a bitter laugh broke from his lips, and while the 
villain shrank from his strange manner, he said : 

“ Dost think I aimed at thee and missed my mark ? 
No, I only sought to shatter your rifle ; for a rifle in 
the hands of a villainous coward like yourself, may be 
a dangerous thing. Now, Master Gilman, I have thee 
on the hip, and you will not escape me so easily. Please 
tell me what business could have called you thus early 
into the forest ? ” 

‘‘ I suppose I have as good a right to be in the forest 
at this hour as yourself,” returned Gilman, in a sullen 
mood. 

‘‘ Certainly,” remarked Chiron, as he poured a charge 
of powder into the barrel of his rifle ; “ but then if you 
have come for any villainous purpose, you will of course 
expect to bear the consequences.” 

“ Do you mean to shoot me ? ” cried Gilman, as 
Chiron rammed home the bullet, at the same time start- 
ing to spring forward. 

“ Back ! ” shouted Chiron. If you lay a finger on 
me, you die on the instant ! Now tell me ” — and as he 
spoke, he poured the priming into the pan of his rifle — 
“ who they are that you have left in the forest near 
young Chester’s dwelling.” 

“ I have left no one.” 

‘‘ Villain ! coward ! you lie ! ” shouted the old hunter, 
Avhile the deep passion marks began to manifest them- 
selves upon the hardy features. “ You did leave men 
skulking about the place, and I will find them out my- 
self.” 

“ Then go and try it.” 

“ I intend to.” 

“ And I wish you success.” 


A DARl^ PLOT. 


95 


There was a dark lowering look in the features of 
Gilman, as he spoke, and already had he turned to move 
away. 

“ Stop a moment, my dear,” said Chiron, as he moved 
quickly forward and laid his hand heavily upon the 
villain’s arm. I would not have you think that you 
‘are to run at large while I look after your companions. 
I shall provide for your safety first.” 

Don’t you lay your hands on me ! ” exclaimed Gil- 
man, and as he spoke he drew a knife from his girdle. 
The hunter’s eyes flashed with a sparkling light as he 
saw the movement, and with a quick, powerful blow of 
his ponderous fist, he laid the villain at his feet; then 
he took from his pocket a number of deerhide thongs 
with which he firmly bound the fallen man’s ankles and 
then pinioned his arms behind him. Having accom- 
plished this, he raised Gilman to his feet, set him 
against a tree and with a long strong thong, the hunter 
bound him to the trunk in an upright posture. 

Gilman swore and raved, threatened and entreated, 
but all to no effect. The old hunter was inflexible in 
his purpose, and as soon as he had accomplished it, he 
took up his knife and started off, remarking as he did 
so: 

“ Don’t fret, Master Gilman ; I’ll release you when I 
come back.” 


96 


A DARK PLOT, 


CHAPTER XV. 

A DARK PLOT IS BROUGHT TO LIGHT. 

With long and rapid steps the old hunter retraced 
liis steps toward the cot, and as he approached he bent 
his eyes about him to see if he could observe anything 
stirring, but nothing unusual met his gaze, and he al- 
most began to think Gilman’s companions had gone, 
when the piteous whining and hoAvling of the hounds 
fell upon his ear, and upon hastening to the spot, he 
found that they had been shut up within their kennel. 
With a powerful pull at the door he forced it open, and 
the hounds finding themselves thus released, sprang 
out with a bound, and seeming at once to recognize 
their deliverer, they crouched wistfully at his feet. 

Chiron was just in the act of patting one of the dogs 
upon the head, when a sharp agonizing cry struck upon 
his ear, and as though a knife had been struck at his 
heart, did he start around and ^ spring toward the 
house. He darted for the front door and throwing it 
quickly open he entered the front room. The sight 
that met his gaze seemed for the instant to freeze him 
to the spot. Poor Morgiana Chester was on her knees, 
the tears were streaming almost in torrents down her 
pale cheeks, and with clasped hands she was begging 
of the man who stood above her, not to drag her from 
her home. 

The man who was thus driving the poor maniac to 


A DARK PLOT. 


97 


destruction was the villain Colton, and near him but 
seeming to take no active part in the scene, stood a 
man whom Chiron had never seen before, but whom, 
from his garb, appeared to be a physician. 

Come up, I say,” exclaimed Colton, as he grasped 
the woman’s arm. Give us no more of your prating. 
I don’t know your husband, and I don’t know as you 
ever had one ; but I’ll take you to a better place than 
this.” 

Chiron spoke not a word, and the only sound he 
made as he stepped forward, was the sharp creaking of 
his grating teeth. But the hunter’s movement was 
quick, and clenching his massive fist, he hurled with all 
his powerful might a blow at the head of the cowardly 
villain. Colton dodged as his eye caught the move- 
ment of the old hunter, and the blow which had been 
intended for his head, fell with might upon his neck ! 

The unfeeling, remorseless villain sank upon the floor 
like a flimsy bag, and in a moment the purple tide of 
life burst forth from his mouth and nostrils. He 
moved not, nor did he utter a groan, for even as the 
lightning flash dies in the heavens, had the coward’s 
spark of life gone out ! 

The excitement of the scene through which she had 
just passed, had proved too much for the shattered mind 
of Morgiana Chester, and with a deep groan she sank 
heavily upon the arm of the hunter. Old Elpsej^ had 
been a silent though deeply interested spectator of the 
scene, and as she saw her mistress faint, she sprang for- 
ward. 

Take her to her bed, Elpsey,” said Chiron, as he re- 
signed Morgiana’s inanimate foi*m into the hands of the 
7 


98 


A DARK PLOT. 


faithful servant, and bathe her brow in cold water. 
She will soon recover.” 

The old woman lifted the airy form of her mistress 
in her arms and easily deposited her burden upon the 
bed within the sleeping-room, and Chiron turned to- 
ward the stranger who had been standing near the 
window. 

‘‘ Now, sir,” said the old hunter, looking with any- 
thing but a jo^-inspiring countenance upon the object 
of his question. ‘‘ Wherefore are you here ? ” 

The stranger quailed before the glance of Chiron 
and an ashy pallor overspread his features. 

Don’t kill me ! For God’s sake, don’t? ” he uttered 
in fear fraught tones. 

“Answer my question, sir,” thundered the giant 
hunter, advancing a step and raising his finger. 

“ Spare me, and I will,” tremblingly returned the 
stranger. 

“Then speak, and at once. Why came ye here?” 

“ I came to help remove a crazy woman.” 

“ And who are you ? What are you ? ” 

“ A physician, sir.” 

“ And, after what you had seen of that poor woman’s 
state of mind, did you still think of removing her ? 
After you had seen her upon her knees, with hands 
clasped in agony, her cheeks flowing with tears, and 
her plaintive voice awoke to earnest prayer, did you 
then think of removing her — of dragging her from her 
home?” 

The physician trembled in silence. 

“ Speak, sir, and answer me ! ” 

“ I — I, sir, was not the principal in this matter. He 
who lies there had the lead. I only came professionally.” 


A DARK PLOT. 


99 


Professionally ! ” repeated Chiron in a tone of the 
utmost irony. ‘‘ And pray, sir, to what end was your 
profession enlisted ? ” 

‘‘I was sent to see, sir, if the woman was actually 
crazy.” 

“ And what was your decision ? ” 

The physician shrank from the question with a dread 
that was manifest in every feature of his countenance, 
but Elpsey, who was at that moment passing through 
the room with a pan of water, helped him. 

Massa Chiron,” she said, dat man say dat my 
missus was stark starin’ mad, and dat dey must take 
her off. Dat’s what he say.” 

Look ye here, thou creeping, lying, miserable Es- 
culapian, dost see that form at my feet ? ” 

Yes, sir,” replied the physician, quaking with fear, 
as he gazed upon the corpse of Colton. 

“ Then mark me,” said Chiron, suddenly changing 
his tone to a low deep whisper, which seemed like the 
premonitory rumbling of an earthquake, ‘‘if you do 
not answer such questions as I ask, and that, too, with- 
out prevarication, you shall sleep by the side of your 
villainous companion in guilt. Now, sir, were not Gil- 
man, Colton and youraelf lurking about here for half 
an hour before I started off toward the woods ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Did you know when Gilman started off after me ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

, “ Now, what was his object in following me ? 
Quick, sir.” 

The physician’s legs seemed almost ready to give way 
beneath his weight as he returned : 

“ It was to — kill — you, sir ! ” 


lOO 


A DARK PLOT. 


So I thought,” said the hunter, while a dark smile 
flitted across his features. “ And now, sir, who sent 
you three on this errand ? ” 

The man hesitated. Chiron pointed significantly 
down to the cold corpse. 

‘‘ It was Mr. Berkley.” i 

“ So I thought again. And he paid you well for your 
part of the job ?” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ And made you pledge your honor that you would 
keep the mission a secret ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

A scornful laugh broke from the lips of the old 
hunter, ajid the word “ honor ” dwelt upon his tongue. 

“Well, well,” uttered Chiron, after he had gazed 
upon the cowering physician for a moment or two, 
“ though ’twere not safe to trust much upon the pledge 
of such security, yet I wot that Roswell Berkley little 
dreamed of the test fire to which your honor would be 
put. But answer me one more question. What was 
to have been done with the woman, had you succeeded 
in dragging her hence ? ” 

“ I don’t know, sir. Mr. Berkley said he would 
manage that, if we would only make out to bring her 
to him.” 

“ O, the double-dyed villain ! ” murmured Chiron, as 
he clenched his fists tightly together. “ But never 
mind, his punishment is even now hanging over his 
head ; and ’tis one, too, of which he little dreams.” 

When the villainous doctor had gone, Chiron laid 
the stiff corpse of Colton upon his shoulder, and pass- 
ing out of the back way he took a spade, and went 
forth into the forest to prepare the last earthly resting 
place for the stricken villain. 


A DARK PLOT. 


lOI 


CHAPTER XVL 

A JUST EETEIBUTION'- 

When Chiron returned to the house, after having 
disposed of Colton’s body, he found that Mrs. Chester 
had recovered from her swoon, and she seemed to have 
but little recollection of what had passed. She spoke 
of being dragged from her home, and of the man she 
had seen dead upon the floor, but her mind dwelt upon 
the scene rather as the memory of a dream than as a 
reality, and Chiron felt glad that it was so, for other- 
wise she might have suffered exceedingly. Now, how- 
ever, she was calm and tranquil, and while the fatal 
affair of the morning seemed to pass entirely from 
her mind, she dwelt with a peculiar sadness upon 
the absence of her son ; but the old hunter assured 
her that he would soon bring Orlando back to her, and 
then taking one more long and earnest gaze at Mor- 
giana’s beautiful features, he beckoned for Elisey to 
follow him, and quitted the apartment. 

“ Did you ever fire a rifle ? ” asked Chiron, as soon as 
he got into the kitchen. 

‘‘ O yes,, I fire Massa Orlando’s.” 

Chiron went to the beckets above the fireplace, where 
one of the young man’s rifles hung, and having found 
that it was loaded, he poured in fresh priming, and 
handing it to Elpsey, said : 

There, keep that rifle handy, and if you are again 


102 


A DARK PLOT, 


assailed before I return, do not fear to use it. Call the 
hounds into the house, and keep them here, for they 
can help you much.” 

Elpsey promised that she would be on her guard, and 
in a few moments more the old hunter passed through 
the front door and started for the river. His step was 
easy, and his countenance was moulded in a cast of 
deep satisfaction, for he believed that he had now 
crushed the power of Berkley, and that the way was 
clear for the release of Orlando. The villain whom he 
had left leashed in the woods, he intended to take with 
him to Jamestown, and, through the influence of Sir 
Oliver, have him at once lodged in jail. 

With such thoughts passing rapidly through his mind, 
and occasionally murmuring, in b,roken, hurried sen- 
tences to himself, the hunter hurried on. As he ap- 
proached the spot where he had left Gilman, he stopped 
a moment to hear if the villain was yet cursing ; but 
all was quiet, and even to a deathly stillness, and with 
a sudden thought that his prisoner had escaped, Chiron 
darted quickly forward. 

As the hunter approached the tree, the sight that 
met his gaze made him start. There lay the stiff, ex- 
tended form of Gilman, his face all black and swollen, 
his eyes protruding from their sockets, and his head bent 
forward upon his breast. The villain had attempted to 
escape by working his body downward so 'as to clear 
the thong that bound him to the tree. He had settled 
down until the thong slipped over his breast ; but here 
his feet appeared to have slipped out from under him, 
thus bringing the whole of his weight upon the relent- 
less thong, directly across his neck ! The ground was 
gently sloping from the tree, and the green, mossy turf 


A DARK PLOT, 


103 

showed marks of a fierce struggle for the regaining of 
his former position. 

For several minutes Chiron gazed in silence upon the 
fearful scene before* him, for it seemed to be the work 
of a higher power than his own. 

Master Gilman,” murmured the hunter to himself, 
“ the finger of an outraged God has settled upon thee. 
I meant not that you should have died yet, for I had 
use for thee, and I was willing that your insulted 
country should have the hanging of thee. But it’s 
done, for you’ve hung yourself, and my soul is washed 
from your blood.” 

As Chiron spoke, he drew his knife from its sheath, 
and cut the thong. The body rolled heavily down the 
slope, and as it settled at the hunter’s feet, he grasped 
it by the collar of the frock and dragged it within the 
bushes, and having covered it over with leaves, he 
started once more on his way, and soon reached the spot 
where his canoe had been secured. 

With powerful strokes the hunter propelled his frail 
bark down the river, and upon reaching the residence 
of Sir Oliver, he urged his canoe in shore, and leaped 
upon the sand. He found the baronet in his study, to- 
gether with his wife and daughter. 

‘‘ Ah, Sir Oliver,” exclaimed Chiron, the work goes 
nobly on. I have the villain fast, and to-morrow I may 
need your assistance. This day, sir, has been a scene 
of strange occurrences, and to-morrow, with your assist- 
ance we will have young Chester released from his 
prison.” 

Released ! — to-morrow ! ” uttered Sir Oliver. 

‘‘ Yes, and why not ? ” 

“ Why not? Did you not release him last night? ” 


104 


A DARK PLOT. 


O no ; when I spoke of releasing him, I meant not 
to do it as soon as that, for I shall need j^our assist- 
ance.” 

“ And do you mean to say that you have not released 
him ? ” said the baronet, in an earnest, meaning tone. 

‘‘ Of course I have not,” returned Chiron in surprise. 
‘‘ Since I saw you last I have not been below here. But 
what mean you ? ” 

‘‘ Orlando Chester has escaped from the jail — that is 
certain,” answered Sir Oliver. 

No, no. That were impossible ! ” exclaimed the old 
hunter, while a sudden shade of anguish passed over 
his features. “ You must have been misinformed, 
surely.” 

‘‘ ’Tis true,” asserted the baronet, with a troubled 
look, “ for couriers have already been despatched in 
search of him. This morning his cell was found empty, 
and the bars of his window had been forced from their 
sockets.” 

“But he could not have escaped unaided,” said 
Chiron, in a tone that bore a slight shade of hope that 
he had done so. 

“ No. There were marks of a ladder below his win- 
dow, and also the footprints of two beside himself ; so 
he must have had assistance.” 

“ Then,” uttered Chiron, while a fearful convulsion 
shook his frame, “ ’tis the work of an enemy. Orlando 
has fallen into an adroitly laid snare. The black- 
hearted villain who has persecuted him knew that he 
could not sustain his charge, and he has adopted some 
new plan for the youth’s ruin. Listen, sir, and I will 
tell you what has happened this morning, and then you 
may judge for yourself.” 


A DARK PLOT. 


lOS 


Thereupon Chiron related to the baronet all that had 
transpired, and as he closed his story Sir Oliver seemed 
too deeply struck with indignation and wonder to make 
any reply ; but Ada sprang forward, and grasping the 
old hunter by the arm, she cried, in a tone of touching 
agony : 

“ O, save him ! save him ! Bring him back to me, 
and I will bless you forever ! ” 

Chiron gazed with mingled anguish and pity into the 
fair features, and said : 

“ Sweet, faithful girl, if the earth hold the youth, I 
will find him, or I will lay down my life in the search.” 

As the old hunter ceased speaking he took his leave 
and withdrew, and as soon as he was once more in his 
canoe, he plied himself with all his might. He had not 
expressed in the presence of the baronet’s family all 
the fears he felt ; but now that he was alone, his coun- 
tenance worked and flashed in fearful anguish. His 
own life had been openly aimed at, and why might not 
the same evil hand be aimed at the life of young Ches- 
ter? It was the first time Chiron had given the 
thought a home in his bosom ; but now that he had 
conceived it, it grew stronger, until it became almost a 
belief. 

The hunter landed at the jail, and ere long he had a 
full confirmation of the youth’s abduction from his cell. 
He examined the footprints in the jail yard, and traced 
them to the river ; but from the officers of the prison 
he could learn nothing new, and with his heart tortured 
by a thousand fearful emotions, he started for the town. 


io6 


A DARK PLOT. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE ENTRAPMENT. 

Let us now return to our youthful hero, whom we 
left just after his escape from the jail. The boat was 
rowed swiftly down the river, and though Orlando ask- 
ed repeatedly to be informed whither they were convey- 
ing him, they answered him not. At length, as the boat 
turned a point of land that projected into the stream, 
the youth caught sight of a heavy brig that lay at 
anchor only a short distance below, and in an instant 
the whole truth flashed across his mind, and springing 
from his seat he exclaimed, while his eyes flashed fire : 

‘‘Put me ashore, or I will sink the boat, and you 
with it ! You have betrayed me, villains, but you shall 
not succeed ! ” 

‘"Keep quiet, my young sir,” said Nolan. “We ain’t 
going to hurt you.” 

“ But do you mean to convey me on board that 
brig ? ” asked Orlando. 

“ Guess we shall stop there for the present.” | 

“ Then turn your boat’s head toward the shore, or j 
I’ll jump and swim for it.” j 

“ You can try it,” coolly returned Nolan, as he drew i 
a heavy pistol from his pocket and cocked it. i 

Orlando settled back upon his thwart with a groan, 
while Nolan laid the pistol down by his side and resum-? 
ed his oar. The youth had no weapon, and no means^ 


A DARK PLOT. 


107 


of procuring one, and from the manner of his compan- 
ion he was assured that they would not hesitate to shoot 
him if he attempted to escape. 

Shortly after Orlando had reseated himself he saw a 
boat put off from the brig and start up the river. The 
moon was yet shining, and as the boat came nearer our 
hero thought he recognized the man who occupied the 
sternsheets. Ere long the boats met and the young 
hunter saw in the person of him who had caught his 
attention, Mr. Roswell Berkley. That gentleman nod- 
ded his head in a significant manner to Nolan, and a 
dark lowering smile rested upon his countenance, as his 
glance fell upon the prisoner. 

Orlando resolved to be quiet — to maintain a steady 
unmoved demeanor, and not to allow his anger, under 
any circumstance, to betray him into needless danger, 
hoping thereby to move the more kindly feelings of his 
guardians, and be the better able to take advantage of 
the first opportunity that might present itself for his 
escape. 

When the boat at length hauled up under the gang- 
way of the brig, the youth was requested to step on 
board, and with a readiness that astonished his compan- 
ions he obeyed. 

The brig was soon on her way toward the mouth of 
the river, and shortly after the anchors had been stowed 
Orlando was shown to a bed which had been prepared 
for him beneath the cover of the longboat. The night 
passed slowly and heavily away, and from what our 
hero could hear of the men, he found that it was the 
general impression among the crew that he was actually 
taken on board to save his neck from the gallows. At 
first he thought of making them understand his case ; 


io8 


A DARK PLOT. 


but he soon saw that such a course would only be likely 
to make matters worse. 

When the youth got upon the deck in the morning 
the brig had cleared the bay, and Cape Henry bore upon 
the starboard quarter. He gazed back upon the land 
that had just lifted its blue vapory bosom to view 
beyond the jaws of the bay, and he thought of those he 
was leaving behind — of those from whom he was being 
thus separated, and perhaps forever ! He fancied he 
saw the tears coursing down the pale cheeks of his poor 
maniac mother, and he could hear her piteous moans as 
she gradually should awake to the knowledge that she 
had no son ! Then the sweet form of his loved Ada 
rose to his view, and he found a new pang in his heart 
as he thought of her. Less and less distinct grew the 
inner shore, and at length it seemed to sink into the 
bosom of the ocean between the two capes ; and when 
the youth could no longer gaze upon it, he turned to- 
ward his rough resting-place, and laying his hands 
upon the sides of the boat, he bent his brow upon 
them. 

“ Come, come, Mr. Chester, you’d better go to the 
galley and get some grub,*' said some one who came up 
and touched him upon the back. 

Orlando turned and beheld Dick Nolan. 

‘‘Nolan,” said he, as he wiped the tears from his 
cheeks, “why did you deceive n\e so? ” 

“ How ? ” coolly returned the sailor. 

“By telling me that Chiron had sent for me, and 
that I was to be carried to my mother.” 

“ Oh, I was only obeyin’ orders, sir. That’s what 1 
was directed to tell you if I couldn’t make you budge 
without ; so you won’t blame me, sir.” 


A DARK PLOT. 


tog 


Nolan,” said the youth, in a tone of anguish so 
touching, and so sweetly melancholy that the old sailor 
started, suppose that you had a mother — one whom 
you loved as your own life, and whose every drop of 
joy was derived from you ; suppose that misfortuDe 
had shattered that mother’s mind, and that you alone 
could give peace to her soul, or shed a ray of sunlight 
across her path ; would you, when calling to mind that 
fond mother’s bitter agony — when dwelling upon her 
tears and prayers, and picturing her sad loneliness, 
blame him who lent himself an instrument to tear you 
from her ? Could you feel it in your heart to think he 
had been unkind?” 

Dick Nolan could have withstood a torrent of curses 
and abuse with right good w^ll, but this attack touched 
him at a defenceless point, and he turned away his 
head. In a moment, however, he turned back, and in 
a tone made tremulous by the calling up of his better 
feelings, he said : 

I am sorry for you, but I couldn’t help it ; though 
perhaps if I had known all this before, I might have 
done differently. But it’s too late now to cry for the 
milk, for it’s all spilt. Come, you can have your break- 
fast now.” 

No, Nolan ; I have no appetite for food now,” re- 
plied Orlando. 

The sailor gazed a moment into the sad, pensive feat- 
ures of the youth, and something like a shade of pity- 
ing sorrow passed over his bronzed face, as he silently 
turned away. 


no 


A DARK PLOT. 


CHAPTER XVIL 

THE BUCCANEER. 

For three days the brig stood on in an easterly di- 
rection, and during that time the young hunter had 
been constantly on the watch. There had been allowed 
a free range of the decks, and as yet he had been en- 
abled to gain but little intelligence with regard to his 
destination. It was between nine and ten o’clock on 
the evening of the third day that Orlando turned into 
his bunk beneath the cover of the longboat, and en- 
deavored to compose himself to sleep. Nearly an hour 
had he lain thus, but no sleep had yet visited his eye- 
lids, though a sort of dreamy, troubled forgetfulness 
had begun to creep over him, when the sound of voices 
below’ brought him to a state of consciousness. One 
of them he recognized as Nolan’s, and as he heard his 
own name pronounced, he placed his ear nearer to the 
edge of the boat. 

‘‘ I really pity the poor fellow,” said Nolan, in reply 
to something that had been said; “and if I’d have 
known what they were goin’ to do with him, blow me 
if I'd had anything to do with it.” 

“It’s a curious affair, anyhow,” remarked another. 
“ I can’t see why a quiet chap like him should trouble 
anybody. Why, he don’t look as though he’d harm a 
mouse.” 

“O, as for that,” returned Nolan, “you’d find him a 


A DARK PLOT. 


tit 


hard customer at a pinch — rather a dangerous man to 
trifle with on equal ground. But you know, even a 
child may sometimes be in the way. I rather think the 
youngster knpws too much for them shore chaps, and 
for that they want to get him out of the way.” 

‘‘But where are they goin’ to carry him?” asked a 
third speaker. 

“I heard the captain sayin’ something to the mate 
yesterday about the coast of Africa, and about white 
slaves. Now can’t you guess ? ” 

For a few moments all was silent ; but at length a 
low murmur of surprise, slightly tinged with disappro- 
bation, fell from the lips of the men, and in a moment 
more Nolan said : 

“ Now keep dark, and let things go on as they may. 
I’m sorry for the poor fellow, for if my suspicions are 
correct he’ll have a hard time of it ; but we can’t help 
it now — it’s none of our business, -^sh ! Here comes 
the mate. Mum’s the word.” 

Orlando Chester sank back upon his pillow, and an 
audible groan escaped from his lips. He had feared 
death, but now such a fate would have seemed compar- 
atively light. He had no doubt, from what he had 
heard, that he was to be sold into slavery ! All 
thoughts of sleep were banished from his mind, and 
long did he ponder upon what he had heard ; but ?ft 
length the feeling came over him that such a diabolical 
plan could not be carried out against him. Up 
through all his doubts and fears there struggled a hope 
that a way of escape might be opened before him, and 
he gradually wrought his mind into a state of compara- 
tive calm. 

When Orlando awoke mext morning the sun had 


iI2 ' A DARK PLOT. 

been some time up from his watery bed, and the crew 
\vere all on deck. Near the wheel stood the captain, 
with his spyglass in his hand, and huddled around 
him were the two mates and some half dozen of the 
men. 

“ Is anything the matter ? ” asked our hero of one of 
the men who was standing along the gangway. 

There’s a sail in sight, that’s all,” returned the man 
thus addressed. 

As the sailor spoke he pointed with his finger over 
the weather beam, and after gazing in that direction a 
iew moments the youth made out a small white speck 
just visible to the naked eye above the horizon. There 
seemed nothing strange about the circumstance, how- 
ever, and without bestowing further thought upon it, 
he went to the galley to get his breakfast. The fore- 
noon passed away without any occurrence worthy of 
note ; but shortly after dinner Orlando’s attention was 
arrested by the strange manner of the captain, who was 
evidently laboring under some powerful excitement ; 
and walking aft, he followed the commander’s glass, 
and found that the sail he had seen in the morning was 
only a mile distant, coming with all her canvas set. She 
was a brigantine, and for the first time the young man 
noticed she carried guns. 

“ Chester,” said the captain, as he noticed the form 
of the prisoner, ‘‘step this way. Do you see that 
brigantine ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Well, what do you take her to be?” 

“ Perhaps a pirate,” said Orlando. 

“ And you are right. Now what do you intend to 
do, sir ? ” 


A DARK PLOT. II3 

‘‘ If any one seeks to harm me I shall endeavor to de- 
fend myself,” returned Orlando- 

‘‘May I be shot if' you don’t take it coolly,” uttered 
the captain, not a little surprised at the perfect cool- 
ness of the young man. 

“And why should I not? No benefit can result 
from any undue excitement ; and besides, I know not 
that I have much to choose between my present situa- 
tion and the one that may be threatened by the capture 
of our vessel.” 

“ But you will fight in behalf of our brig, will you 
not?” 

“ I have no arms, sir.” 

“We have plenty on board, so you need not fear on 
that account.” 

“ Then you may arm me, sir, and if my own judg- 
ment tells me that my portion of strength is necessary 
for defence of your crew, I will use it. I have no de- 
sire to see these ocean robbers trample upon the rights 
of others, for human right is sacred, and he who would 
abuse it deserves a just retribution.” 

The young hunter spoke in a low meaning tone, and 
the eyes of the captain fell to the deck as he met the 
keen glance of the speaker. He read at once the 
meaning of the language, and though anything like 
repentance or sorrow might never enter his soul, yet he 
could not but realize his own baseness and shame in 
the presence of one like his prisoner. He did not care 
to encounter the gaze of the youth at that moment, so, 
raising his glass to his eye, he took another look at the 
approaching brigantine. 

“Mr. Cowley,” said the captain to his first mate, 
“ the pirates are aiming their long gun. Call the men 

S 


A DARK plot. 


114 

aft and distribute the arms. Look well to the pis- 
tols.” 

TJie brig’s crew consisted, all told, of eighteen men 
— and ere long each man was armed with a heavy cut- 
lass and a brace of pistols. Our hero readily took the 
weapons which the mate handed to him, but he did 
it with no fixed purpose, only he felt that his own life 
should be sold as dearly as possible. As soon as the 
men were all armed, the captain called them aft and 
explained the situation in which they were placed. He 
knew that if the pirates captured the brig, the crew 
would be mercilessly put to death ; and he appealed to 
the sailars to sell their lives at a dear cost. 

The brig carried two carriage guns upon her deck, 
each capable of carrying a twelve-pound ball. They 
were lashed to the bulwarks, one on each side, and 
pointed fore and aft, the ports not yet having been 
opened, nor the guns cast loose. At length a wreath 
of smoke curled up from the deck of the brigantine, and 
tliat instant an eighteen-pound ball came dashing di- 
rectly along under the brig's bows. 

The pirate was yet a considerable distance from the 
brig, though she was gaining vantage rapidly, the lat- 
ter vessel having kept steadily on her course, and the 
former only varjung sufficiently to keep her head to- 
ward the object of her chase. As soon as all other 
matters had been arranged on board the brig, the two 
heavy guns were cast from their lashings and drawn 
aft, where they were loaded half way to their muzzles 
with every sort of missile that could be procured, such 
as iron bolts, nuts, spikes, etc., and they were both 
pointed toward the spot where the pirates would prob- 


A DARK PLOT, 1 15 

ably board, though if the point of attack should be 
varied, they could be moved in a moment. 

Again the long gun of the pirate sent forth her iron 
messenger ; and it came with the same effect, for it 
struck the brig’s side just abaft the main chains, and 
went crashing and ploughing across the deck. The 
splinters flew in every direction, one of them wound- 
ing Orlando slightly upon the leg. The youth started 
as he felt th^ twinge of pain, and casting his eye to- 
ward the brigantine, he uttered : 

“ If I had my trusty rifle here you’d not Are that gun 
again.” 

The captain heard the youth’s exclamation, and step- 
ping up to his side, he asked : 

Are you sure of your aim with a rifle ? ” 

“ With a good one I am.” 

“I have two on board.” 

‘‘Then bring them to me,” said our hero, as he 
stooped down and bound his handkerchief around his 
leg. 

In a few moments the captain produced two long 
heavy rifles, and at the first glance the youth knew 
them to be of the best. They were speedily loaded, 
and taking one of them in his hand, Orlando walked 
aft to where he could command a view of the pirate’s 
long gun. He had not been long on the watch when 
he saw one of the enemy approach the dreaded gun. 

“ You won’t do anything at that distance,” said the 
captain. 

Orlando made no reply, but on the next moment he 
raised his piece and fired. To the crew it seemed as if 
he had taken no aim, and they expressed themselves by 
a low murmur to that effect ; but their disappointment 


n6 


A DARK PLOT. 


was changed to astoilishment when they saw the pirate, 
who was just in the act of raising a match to the prim- 
ing of the long gun, drop back from sight. 

Load that rifle — quick,” exclaimed the youth, as he 
took the other in his hand. 

Another of the pirates stepped up to the long gun 
and raised the lighted match ; but ere he could accom- 
plish his purpose, the unerring aim of the hunter sent a 
bullet through his head. Again and again was the 
pirate’s match raised in the hand of a fresh recruit, but 
the captain of the brig made out to keep the rifles 
ready for use, and the youth used them with fatal pre- 
cision. Six men had been taken off in this way, when 
the pirates seemed to have abandoned their favorite 
engine entirely ; for though the gun might by some 
means have been touched off from a secure hiding- 
place, yet its aim was now false, and they had found to 
their cost that he who would go forth to point it anew, 
went only to his certain death. 

By the time, however, that the pirates abandoned 
their long gun, they had ranged near enough to make 
effectual use of their batteries, and in a few moments 
after Orlando had fired his last shot, the brigantine let 
drive her broadside of six twelve-pounders. Some of 
the shot took effect upon the brig’s side, for she trembled 
between the concussion, while one or two came whiz- 
zing harmlessly over the deck. At that moment the 
brigantine ran up the black flag at her peak, and fired a 
gun to windward. 

“That means for us to heave-to,” said the mate. 

“Yes,” returned the captain, “and the fellow means 
that we should know his erraiid, too.” 

Then turning to the man at the wheel he ordered the 


A DARK PLOT. 


I17 

helm to be put down and the foreyards to be braced 
sharp up. In a few moments more the mainsail was 
clewed up and the brig lay motionless upon the water. 
The pirates, however, even though their request had 
been thus readily complied with, proved most treacher- 
ous ; for the laying of the brig to the wind had brought 
her head into exactly the position to receive a raking 
fire, and the next moment she got it from the pirate’s 
broadside. None of the crew were harmed, however, 
for at that instaiit their vessel’s bows were raised upon 
the bosom of the rolling sea, and the enemy’s shot 
struck low, though some of them hit the brig. 

As had been anticipated, the pirates prepared to 
board at the bows, for already had she run under the 
brig’s forefoot and luffed short up. The captain of the 
merchantman called all his men aft, and having hidden 
the two guns as much as possible by lowering the main 
spencer across them, he saw that they were aimed 
properly, and then, with a lighted match behind him — 
while the mate stood prepared in the same manner — 
he waited the onset. 

At length the pirate’s bows grated along under the 
brig’s forechains, and as the grappliugs were thrown on 
board, the buccaneers began to swarm in by the fore- 
rigging. Some twenty of them had gained the deck, 
and were on the point of rushing aft, when the captain 
applied his match, and from beneath the innocent look- 
ing sail there pbured forth a sheet of flame and smoke, 
as the myriad messengers of death went on their way. 
The captain was not disappointed in the result of Lis 
shot, for the spikes and bolts had been packed in such 
a manner that they had spread in all directions, and the 
havoc they made upon the advancing men was fearful. 


A DARK PLOT, 


ii8 

As the pirates saw the fate of their comrades, they set 
up a wild yell of rage, and those who were behind 
dashed madly on; but ere they reached the gangway 
they were met by the mate’s shot, and for a few 
moments they hesitated. Twenty at least of their men 
were either killed or totally disabled, and they had not 
many over the same number left. 

“ Pistols, my men ! — pistols ! ” shouted the captain of 
the brig, as the pirates again started aft. 

The pistols were discharged, but only one or two of 
the enemy fell, and the remainder came rushing wildly 
on. The crew of the brig drew their cutlasses, and 
with a fearful clashing of steel the combatants met. 

Orlando Chester stood apart in the weather gangway. 
In one hand he held his heavy cutlass, and in the other 
a loaded pistol ; but as yet he had not mingled in the 
fight. At length he saw the captain of the brig fall 
beneath the cutlass of the buccaneer chief and ere long 
the mate sank dead upon the deck. The pirates were now 
gaining ground ! All the men who were now left were 
favorably disposed toward the youth — at least in their 
sjnnpathies ; and as the thought came to our hero’s 
mind, he grasped the cutlass more firmly in his hand, 
brought his pistol to its rest, and then, with the hope 
of liberty beckoning him on, he rushed forward to the 
scene of conflict. 

The young hunter had not been observed by the 
pirates, and as his first blow was aimed at their chief- 
tain they were for a moment so startled that the points 
of their weapons were allowed to drop. Orlando’s blow 
had been calculated for an effective one, and.the pirate 
chieftain fell beneath it never to rise again to earthly 
life. In a moment the buccaneers recovered their sus- 


A DARK PLOT. 


II9 

pended senses, and two bright cutlasses gleamed above 
young Chester’s head ; but he was calm in his purpose 
of self-redemption, and his quick eye served him faith- 
fully. With his own weapon, still red with the fallen 
chieftain’s blood, he struck off the blow of the assail- 
ant upon the right, and with his ready pistol shot the 
other through the head. 

This feat of Orlando’s, as terrible as it was unex- 
pected, served a double purpose ; it not only struck 
terror to the hearts of the pirates, but it also gave new 
courage to the crew of the brig. Nolan sprang for- 
ward to the youth’s side — the rest followed his example, 
and with a loud shout of victory they set with almost 
demonic bravery upon the enemy. Foot after foot did 
the pirates give up their ground, one after another of 
their number fell beneath the determined strokes of 
Orlando and his companions, until at length, with not 
over a dozen of them alive, they turned at the forerig- 
ging and leaped upon their own deck. Dick Nolan 
threw the grapplings after them, and in a few minutes 
the brigantine’s head swung off and she sailed away from 
the scene of her unsuccessful combat. 

“Chester,” said Nolan, as he grasped the young man 
by the hand, after the pirate was fairly off, “ will you 
forgive me for the part I took against you? You have 
proven yourself a noble man, and I can never rest easy 
if I thought you’d laid up anything against me. Only 
say you’ll pardon me.” 

“You have my pardon freely and fully,” replied the 
youth, as he returned the warm grip of the old sailor ; 
“ and now I trust I am at liberty, at least, as much as 
the present confines of shipboard will admit off” 


120 


A DARK PLOD 


‘‘ That you are, and if you only desire it, the brig 
shall be put back,” said Nolan. 

I could wish, at least, that you would land me as 
near Jamestown as possible.” 

‘‘ I don’t know but we shall have to put back there 
at any rate. The captain and mate, are both gone, and 
I don’t much feel like putting the brig through to Eng- 
land myself.” 

The crew were loud and enthusiastic in thanks to 
our hero ; and from a doomed prisoner he found him- 
self transformed into a hero and commander, for all 
hands expressed themselves ready to obey his wishes. 

Upon examination it was found that eight of the 
crew were killed, while two were so badly wounded 
they were wholly disabled, so there were only nine 
men, including Orlando, left for duty. The first thing 
done was to get the decks cleared of the dead. Then 
the brig was filled away, and after a short consultation 
her head was put back, the wind allowing her to lay, 
close-hauled, just up to her true course for the Chesa- 
peake. 


A DARK PLOT. 


121 


CHAPTER XIX. 

UNEXPECTED INTERVIEWS. 

It was one month after the mysterious disappearance 
of young Chester from the Jamestown jail. Night had 
succeeded a pleasant day, and Chiron sought the dwell- 
ing of Roswell Berkley. Upon the brow of the old 
hunter there was a stamp of deep suffering, yet over 
all there was a firm set cast of a powerful determina- 
tion. 

Mr. Berkley was alone* in his private .study. He was 
engaged in looking over some papers, when he heard 
the door of his room opened, mid on looking up he 
beheld the towering form of Chiron. 

‘‘Now, by the saints of heaven ! ” uttered Mr. Berk- 
ley, as he recovered from the first shock of the meeting, 
“your insolence is becoming unbearable. If you do 
not leave me on the instant your arrest and commit- 
ment shall be the consequence.” 

“ Soft, soft, my dear sir,” said the old hunter. “ I 
think you would find it hard to have me arrested.” 

“Not so hard as you imagine. The deaths of Gil- 
man and Colton may yet have to be answered for.” 

“ So, so ; then }^our accommodating doctor has been 
blabbing. But look ye, Mr. Berkley, do you wish a 
thorough investigation of that affair before the pub- 
lic?” 

Mr. Berkley met the keen glance of the hunter, and 


122 


A DARK PLOD 


he quailed before it. But he endeavored to conquer 
his emotions, and turning to Chiron, he said : 

“ I fear no investigation, sir, of any of my acts ; but 
I can inform you that the laws protect the dwellings of 
our citizens from the intrusion of common brawlers, 
and you had better beware how you lay yourself liable 
to them. I would be alone.” 

“And in a few moments you shall,” returned Chiron, 
who could not help smiling at the sudden change in his 
host’s ground of complaint; “but first I would ask 
you once more what has become of Orlando Chester?” 

“ I know not.” 

“ Beware, Mr. Berkley ! What have you done with 
him?” 

“ I tell you I know nothing of him, only that he has 
escaped from jail,” answered the agent. 

“ Then you will not give me a clew to his where- 
abouts?” continued Chiron. 

“ If he were upon the gallows, I would give you a 
passage in the same direction.” 

“ Thank you, kindly, sir ; but I shall have no need of 
your service,” said the hunter ; and then lowering his 
voice, in a tone of the deepest import, he continued ; 

“ Now let me tell you, sir, that though you refuse to 
acknowledge your hand in this matter, yet I know it 
was you who did it ; but ’twill avail you little. Your 
ends will not be so easily answered. You have in some 
way disposed of the son, and you tried to dispose of 
the mother; but there I thwarted you. And now, 
Roswell Berkley, I tell thee that thy dreaded secret is 
not locked up in the maniac bosom of Morgiana Ches- 
ter. I know the secret, and thex'e is another beside 
whose ears have drank it in ; so you need not think to 


A DARK PLOT. 


123 

save yourself by the death of the mother and her 
child.’^ 

“ Villain, you lie ! ’’ shrieked Berkley, utterly frantic 
with passion. “ I have no secret. I care not for Mrs. 
Chester, save to place her in safety.” 

‘‘No secret?” 

“ No.” 

“Not even with regard to a certain duel once fought, 
wherein you figured behind the scenes ? ” said Chiron. 

Roswell Berkley sprang from his chair, and the words 
“ Villain! LiarV broke from his bloodless lips; but 
ere he could speak further his power of utterance seem- 
ed to fail him, and grasping his desk for support, he 
sank back into his seat. The old hunter regarded him 
for a moment with a look of utter contempt, and then 
turning away, he left the villain alone. 

“ It’s of no use,” murmured Chiron to himself, as he 
slipped from Berkley’s house ; “ he won’t criminate 
himself further by acknowledging his agency in the re- 
moval of Orlando ; but I don’t believe he’ll trouble 
Morgiana again, after what he has just learned.” 

The hunter’s course lay toward the house of Sir Oli- 
ver Wimple, and when he reached it he hauled his 
canoe to the shore, and was just turning to pass on 
through the garden, when the sound of distant oars 
struck upon his ear, coming from down the river. At 
first he thought of waiting to see who it might be ; but 
the idea was thrown out, and he turned toward the 
house. Sir Oliver, his wife and daughter were in the 
sitting-room when Chiron entered, and the first ques- 
tion was from the baronet : ' 

“ What of the youth ? Have you learned anything 
yet?” 


124 


A DARK PLOT, 


The old hunter’s answer was a mournful shake of the 
head. 

Poor Ada ! how that silent answer fell upon her 
soul. She had hung upon the looks of the old hunter 
for his answer to the question that instinctively rose in 
her mind, and that answer had crushed the bud of 
hope. 

‘'No tidings ? — no word of hope ? — no glimmer of 
his whereabouts?” uttered the baronet. 

“ None, none ! ” sorrowfully returned Chiron. “ I can 
find no traces of him. I have been up the bay two 
hundred miles, and searched in every corner, but not a 
word can I hear of him.” 

“ Some one would speak with you,” said a servant, 
opening the door a moment afterwards. 

Whether this remark was addressed to Chiron or 
himself, the baronet waited not to ascertain, but he bade 
the servant show the applicant in. 

A moment passed — the door was reopened, and the 
entrance was occupied by a human form. Two indi- 
viduals in that room recognized the. new-comer. The 
old hunter started back and shaded his eyes with his 
broad palm, while Ada uttered one wild cry of joy and 
delight and sprang forward. Orlando Chester opened 
his arms, and when they closed again the fair form of 
Ada was encircled within them. 

“ Orlando, Orlando,” uttered Chiron, as soon as he 
could grasp the youth by the hand, “ what kind angel 
has given thee back to us ? ” 

“ God ! ” answered Orlando, as with one hand in keep- 
ing with the old hunter, he raised the other toward 
heaven. “ Praise Him, Chiron, and you, sweet, gentle 
Ada, bless His holy name.” 


A DARK PLOT. 


125 


Sir Oliver waited for the first joy passage of old ac- 
quaintances, and then he stepped forward and claimed 
the acquainfance of the youth who had been thus un- 
expectedly restored A strange light beamed in the 
young man’s eyes as he received the warm heart-gush- 
ing welcome of the father of her he loved, and in his 
soul he knew that his suit was not rejected. The moth- 
er, too, gave him a hearty welcome. 

‘‘ And now,” said Chiron, ‘‘ let me know the secret of 
your absence, and the events that have transpired.” 

My mother, my mother first,” uttered Orlando: 
‘‘ Tell me of her.” 

“ She is well, and early in the morning we will go to 
her.” 

“ But does she think I have forsaken her ? ” 

“ No. She sorrows deeply, but she believes you will 
come back to her.” 

Thus assured, the youth took a seat, and with Ada 
nestled closely to his side, he began with his flight from 
the jail, and minutely gave every circumstance to the 
present time. 

Many times during the narrative did Orlando have 
to go back and explain, or repeat his words, and when 
he closed there was a dead silence of several moments, 
broken only by the perceptible beating of Ada’s heart. 

“Then ’twas Roswell Berkley- wha sought thus your 
life ? ” said the old hunter, at length. 

“Yes,” returned the youth. “ Nolan told me all.” 

“ And the villain would have sold you into slavery ? ” 
said Chiron, with a shudder. 

“Yes — so he intended. But God permitted it not,” 
the youth returned. 

“ But these sailors,” remarked Chiron, with a seem- 


126 


A DARK PLOT. 


ing sudden thought. “ I hope they will not see Berk- 
ley till our plans are arranged.” 

“ No fear of that. I left them at the plantation of 
the king’s bay, some fifteen miles below Jamestown, 
with directions that they should not come up until they 
were sent for.” 

“ That is good,” the old hunter uttered ; “ and now, 
Mr. Roswell Berkley, you are mine.” 

“Chiron,” said the young man, with a half-imploring, 
half-earnest look, ^‘you know not now what all this 
means? — why it is that wicked man thus hunts me 
down?” 

“ I know, Orlando, but the secret must yet a little 
longer be mine. Blame me not for this. But you are 
tired — you look faint and sick.” 

“ I am weary,” returned the youth, “ for I have suf- 
fered much. For the last three w'eeks I have hardly 
slept, and my mind has been constantly on the rack, 
but this night’s rest will restore me, at least to com- 
fortable health.” 

“ Then you had better go at once to your repose,” 
said Sir Oliver. 

“ 1 will,” returned the youth, “ for I would 6e astir 
with the first beams of the morrow’s sun. Chiron, early, 
early will we seek my poor mother. I can but pray 
for her to-night — to-morrow myself will bless her. Ada, 
good-night, and all the angels watch thy pillow. 1 
claim this as the genius of my dreams.” 

As he spoke he bent forward and imprinted a warm 
kiss upon the fair brow, and she gave him one in ex- 
change. 

As Orlando followed the baronet to the room where 
he was to rest. Lady Wimple called Ada to her side, 


A DARK PLOT, 

and placing her arms around her slender form, she 
said : 

Ah, my child, I wonder not that you love him ; for 
who could help it ? ” 

“ Bless you, mother ! ” «lnurmured Ada, as the tears 
of joyous gratitude rolled down her cheeks. “ i knew 
that you would love him ! ” 

‘‘ Now,’" said the baronet after he had returned, “ how 
shall we proceed in this matter ? ” 

‘‘ We must first look to Orlando’s safety from another 
arrest, for he is still under commitment.” 

‘‘ That I will attend to on the morrow. While you 
are gone to Mrs. Chester’s I will go and see the royal 
governor, and I am confident I can obtain present bail 
for the youth and a conditional pardon.” 

Then, if that be done, we may go on at. once. 
Berkley shall not know of the young man’s return till 
the youth appears to confound him, and then he shall 
know it to his sorrow.” 

When Chiron laid his head upon the pillow that night 
the sea of his prospects looked all calm and unruffled, 
and the horizon was clear. He knew not, he dreamed 
not, of the cloud that was gathering over him, and 
’twas well he did not, for in his ignorance he slept 
sweetly and soundly. 


128 


A DARK PLOT. 


CHAPTEfl XX. 

THE COLD FOREST BED. 

The skylark was just mounting upon her celestial 
throne of song when Chiron and Orlando set forth from 
the mansion of Sir Oliver. The youth pressed Ada to 
his bosom, received the hearty godspeed of the baronet 
and his lady, and then he turned toward the river. 

The canoe was launched, and once more the young 
hunter’s heart leaped wildly in his bosom as his way 
was marked toward his forest home. He bent himself 
•to his paddle, and all his weakness, his privations, and 
his past sufferings were forgotten as the canoe almost 
flew over the rolling river. The landing cove was 
reached, the canoe hauled up among the bushes, and 
with a stride our two friends set off through the path. 

As the opening was gained the young hunter looked 
forth over the garden to see if his mother was at her 
accustomed morning’s task, but he could not see her. 
The flowers, the shrubs and the vines were there all 
glittering with their dewy diamond-drops, but the 
genius of the place was absent. A fear-phantom stole 
through the mind of the youth, but he endeavored to 
^push it from him. He entered the garden, passed up 
the vine-clad walk, and as his hand rested on the latch 
a low sob broke upon his ear. Quickly but noiselessly 
he opened the door and sprang into the house. Upon 
the old oaken chest sat Elpsey, with her face running 


A DARK PLOD 1 29 

streams of tears, and her bosom heaving with deep 
sobs. ^ 

As the old woman heard the sound of the present 
footsteps she raised her eyes from her apron, and, as 
they rested upon the form of her young master, she 
sprang from her seat and darted forward. 

‘‘ God be praised ! ” uttered the faithful old creature, 
as she caught Orlando by the arm. He gib my J^oung 
master back in safety. You no dead — dey no kill you ! 
O bress de Lord ! ” 

‘‘But my mother, where is she?” asked Orlando. 

“ O God ! ” murmured the old woman, as if afraid of 
her own voice, “ poor missus gone.” 

“ Gone ! gone ! not dead, Elpsey ! ” cried Orlando, in 
a shrieking whisper. 

“ Poor Elpsey don’t know. Missus gone and Elpsey 
can’t find her.” 

“But when did she go, and how‘^^” asked Chiron, at 
this moment stepping forward, for Orlando seemed for 
a moment to have lost his power of utterance. 

“ She go yesterday morning,” returned the old 
woman, over whose face a light shade of hope seemed 
to cross as she beheld the old hunter. “She went out 
into the garden, an’ I tink she was goin’ to take care 
ob her fiowers. One hour, two hour went away, and 
de sun bimeby reached to noon, but no missus,^ come 
back. I hunt for her, an’ I couldn’t find her. I went 
trough de woods, hunt in de brook — but — but — she 
gone, an’ poor Elpsey left alone ! ” 

“ But the dogs, the dogs ! ” uttered Chiron ; “ did 
you not set them on the track ? ” 

“ Ah, Chiron,” answered Elpsey, .with a significant 
toss of the head, “ de dogs no dogs now same as dey 
9 


130 


A DARK PLOT. 


used to be. Since Massa Orlando gone, dey do nothin* 
but mope round an’ whine.” 

‘‘ This is indeed a black cloud upon oiir prospects,’’ 
murmured the old hunter. ‘‘But courage, courage, 
Orlando. Let us not faint by the wayside, for as yet 
all is not lost.”, 

“ If my mother is gone, then is all the world lost to 
me,” ejaculated the youth. “ I’ll bid farewell to joy 
forevermore on earth.” 

“ No, no ! there are others on earth for whom you 
must live. But give not up yet. Let us search first, 
and not until all search proves fruitless must we sink 
in despair.” 

“ Search, search ! ” cried the youth, throwing off his 
dejection. “I’ll search till there’s not a tree in the 
forest but bears its image to my sight. On, on, 
Chiron.” 

The energetic tones of the young man went ringing 
through the air, and in a moment more a suppressed 
cry from the hounds announced that they had heard it. 
Chiron stepped through the kitchen, opened the back 
door, and the dogs rushed in. 

They sprang to the feet of their returned master, 
leaped upon him, licked his hands and face, and from 
out of their sparkling eyes there spoke a language of 
true disinterested affection, such as the sons of men 
might emulate with pride. 

Old Elpsey could give no account of which way her 
mistress had taken, and the trails from the house in all 
directions were so numerous that the footsteps of Mor- 
giana could not be distinguished from the others. The 
hunter placed some reliance on the dogs, however, and 
calling them to his side, Orlando took the rifle from its 


A DARK PLOT. 


13I 

beckets and went forth into the garden. Here he made 
show of search, and called several times for his mother. 
The liounds watched his movements with anxious 
looks; but at length they seemed to comprehend their 
master’s object, for with that beam of intelligence 
wliich the bloodhound so quickly shows, they bent their 
nostrils to the earth, and after running over the garden 
in various directions, they set off towards the brook. 
Here they crossed, and after searching for a few min- 
utes upon the other side, they started for the forest^ 

Chiron and Orlando followed quickly on, and ere 
long they were buried in the depths of the forest. 
They could hear the dry bushes and boughs crackle 
beneath the feet of the hounds, ahead, and regardless 
of the thorns and underbrush they kept on in pursuit. 

“ My mother could not have taken such a course as 
this,” said Orlando, as he struggled through the thick 
undergrowth. 

“ It does seem strange she should have chosen such a 
way,” Chiron replied ; but let’s follow the dogs.” 

“ Ha, what’s this ? ” uttered the youth, as his eye 
caught a fluttering shred ahead of him. Heavens ! 
’tis a piece of my mother’s mantle ! he continued, as 
he picked from the branch of a wild thorn a piece of 
white muslin. 

Orlando’s eyes sparkled with a new hope as he placed 
the shred within his bosom, and with an impulsive 
energy both he and Chiron darted forward. 

“Hark ! ” uttered Chiron, as he stopped and bent his 
ears to the ground. “ Can you hear the dogs ? ” 

“ No,” Orlando answered, alsoTistening. 

“ See, ’tis high noon. Look, where the sunbeams 


132 


A DARK PLOT, 


fall througli yonder opening in the trees. Can it be we 
have missed the trail ? ” 

“I fear we have,” returned the young hunter in a 
tone of dejection. 

Chiron was upon the point. of speaking, when a sharp, 
prolonged, simultaneous cry from both the hounds 
broke through the forest. 

“ On, on ! ” shouted the young hunter. “ Oh, God 
grant that they have found her ! ” 

The two hunters sprang forward, and while yet the 
barking of the dogs made the deep forest ring, they 
glided through the tangled wildwood toward the spot 
whence the sounds proceeded. 

‘‘ Wildly, fearfully beat young Chester’s heart as he 
approached the dogs, and he almost dreaded to come 
upon them, lest disappointment only should meet him, 
and another thought, frightful and chilling, swept 
through his mind — might he not find his mother’s form 
in the cold clasp of death? On he dashed, and at 
length he caught sight of the dogs. One bound brought 
him to their side, and ere his companion reached the 
spot, he uttered one cry of hopeful anguish, and sank 
down by the side of his mother’s form. 

Wet and cold was Morgiana, for the rain had found 
her unprotected. Her lips were set and colorless, and 
no mark of animation dwelt upon her marble features. 
Orlando placed his hand beneath her neck and raised 
her head to his knee, and then, with his own heart 
hushed to a fearful stillness, he placed his hand upon 
the bosom of his mother, to see if hers had motion in 
it. 

‘‘ It beats ! it beats ! ” the young hunter cried. ‘‘ Oh, 
Chiron, my mother lives ! ” 


A DARK PLOT. 


133 


The excitement of the moment came near overpow- 
ering the youth, for long suffering had made him weak, 
and closing his eyes beneath the unerring spell, he sank 
upon the damp moss, and the form of his mother sank 
once more upon the ground. Chiron stooped over the 
forms of mother and son, and ere many moments the 
latter was aroused to consciousness, and when reason 
once began to come to his aid, the situation of his par- 
ent flashed upon him, and strength returned to his 
every nerve and muscle. Chiron raised the form of 
Morgiana upon his own bended knees, and was chafing 
her temples with a sealskin pouch he wore at his girdle. 

“ Can she live ? ” asked Orlando, as he took one of 
the cold alabaster hands in his own. 

There is hope,” returned Chiron, for her heart 
already beats stronger, and the warmth begins to reach 
her temples. Take off your frock, Orlando, and place it 
here upon this gentle mound of moss. We will let her 
rest here while we prepare a litter.” 

The jmuth did as directed ; then Chiron laid Mor- 
giana’s head back upon the rough pillow thus prepared, 
and laying off his own shirt of soft fur, he placed it 
over her. This having been done, the old hunter drew 
his hatchet from his belt and proceeded to get out the 
proper materials for a litter, and ere long one of suffi- 
cient capacity was formed and upon it Morgiana Ches- 
ter was laid. The two hunters raised the litter to their 
shoulders, and with eager steps they started homeward. 
The way was difficult and tedious, and at the distance 
of a quarter of a mile they struck into a hunting-path, 
and they moved on with more ease. Often did Or- 
lando find himself obliged to stop and rest, but at 
length, just as the sun had sunk below the towering 


134 


A DARK PLOT. 


treetops, they reached the forest cot. Old Elpsey 
bounded forth, and with a wild cry of anguish she fell 
upon the form of her mistress ; but as soon as she 
could be made to comprehend that there was any life 
in that cold form, she clasped it in her arms and car- 
ried it into the house, where she placed it carefully and 
tenderly upon the bed. 

With a fond heart did the faithful old negress chafe 
the temples of her mistress, and apply such restoratives 
as she could command. Chiron stood by with earnest, 
eager watching, and at length, as the last soft rays of 
twilight were deepening into darkness, the maniac 
mother’s eyes opened — but oh, what a fire burned in their 
depths ! She put forth her white hand and grasped old 
Elpsey by the wrist. 

“ Ha, you black fiend ! ” she cried, as she started up 
in her. bed. ’Twas you who carried off my boy ! ” 

Chiron sprang forward and pressed the raving woman 
back upon her pillow. Orlando seemed riveted to the 
spot — then he sank upon his knees, buried his face in 
the bed clothes and sobbed aloud. 

Poor .Morgiana Chester. She had indeed come back 
to life, and she had been awakened to find all her 
reason gone. The soft light of her mild eye, the 
heavenly purity of her passive countenance, and the 
gentle dewdrops of her soul’s sorrow were gone — all 
gone ! She was mad. The frail throne of her mind 
that had been toppling for years upon its foundations, 
had now fallen, and beneath its weight the soul fell 
crashing to utter chaos. 

A moment Chiron gazed tearlessly upon the scene — 
then he took the young hunter gently by the arm and 
led him unresistingly from the spot. 


A DARK PLOT. 


135 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE MENTAL MORN HAS BROKEN FROM ITS NIGHT, 

A WEEK had passed away since the melancholy de- 
velopment recorded in the last chapter. In a quiet, 
handsomely furnished chamber in the mansion of Sir 
Oliver Wimple, reposed, upon a bed of downy softness, 
the form of the poor maniac mother. A raging fever 
had set in, caused by her exposure in the forest, and, 
at the earnest request of the baronet, sustained by the 
permission of an excellent physician, she had been re- 
moved to her present quarters. The gentle Ada had 
nursed her, while Lady Wimple left nothing undone 
for her comfort. 

Morgiana was raving exceedingly — sometimes for her 
husband, sometimes for her son, and anon her mind 
would turn upon the secret of the old oaken chest* 
Her ravings were wild and incoherent, but they lasted 
only an hour or two at a time, her physical strength 
soon giving way beneath them. She recognized no one? 
not even her son, for her mind seemed to be utterly up- 
rooted. 

It was toward the close of the day that the physi- 
cian called in his daily visit, and as he entered his pa- 
tient’s chamber a smile of satisfaction lit up his features. 
Morgiana had just sunk into an easy grateful slumber, 
and a profuse perspiration was upon her brow and tem- 
ples. Her skin was moist and soft, and her pulse — that 


136 


A DARK PLOT. 


index to the beating heart — was steadier than it had 
been for a week before. Those hard painful lines that 
had marked the maniac’s fair countenance had softened 
to a more pensive look, and the blue veins, w^hich had 
been so long strained to bursting, left now only their 
azure tracings beneath the transparent skin. The 
right hand was thrown over her head, and the left arm 
was outstretched, as if to give more room to the heart. 

Orlando stood at the foot of the bed, and by his side 
leaned Ada. Upon the countenance of the youth there 
was a broad ray of hope, which seemed a reflection of 
the physican’s own smile, and yet he watched the lat- 
ter’s movements with nervous anxiety. As the doctor 
turned to leave the room, he beckoned for Orlando to 
follow him. 

Mr. Chester,” said the physician, as soon as they 
had reached the hall, your mother is past all present 
danger.” 

Great God, I thank thee ! ” ejaculated the youth, as 
he clasped his hands together. 

‘‘ Let her not be disturbed to-night,” continued the 
physician, for if I am not greatly mistaken she will 
sleep quietly till morning. Yet she must be narrowly 
watched and properly cared for.” 

At this moment Chiron entered the hall, and a joy- 
ous look overspread his face as he heard the result of 
the doctor’s investigation. 

“ Doctor,” said he, as that individual was upon the 
point of turning to depart, “you have not lisped a 
word of Mrs. Chester’s whereabouts, have you ? ” 

“ Not a word.” 

“ Nor of her son?” 


A DARK PLOT, 1 37 

No, not a syllable, nor does any one in the town 
seem to mistrust that the youth has returned.” 

“ I am glad of that,” returned Chiron, and then turn- 
ing to Orlando, he said in an undertone : 

Berkley mistrusts not the retribution I have in store 
for him.” 

As the physician departed, the youth gazed long and 
earnestly into the face of the old hunter, and at length, 
laying his hand upon the arm of his mysterious friend, 
he asked : 

‘‘ Chiron, I would ask you a question. Since I have 
known you I have troubled you with but few questions. 
I once promised you that 1 would not seek to rend the 
veil from your secret. Have I not kept that promise ? ” 

Most faithfully,” returned Chiron. 

“ Then I would now be absolved from its further 
claims.” 

“I grant the absolution,” Chiron rejoined, with a 
smile. 

“ Now, now, Chiron, tell me who and what you are. 
You say the crisis is near at hand, and before it comes, 
I would at least know you for what you really are.” 

Then know me for your friend.” 

“No, no, not that, Chiron — that I have long 
known .” 

“ Orlando,” said the strange man, while a peculiar 
shade of mingled hope and anxiety passed over his 
features, “ if you do not receive what you ask from 
other lips than mine on the morrow, I will myself open 
the seal and hold it up to your view. The mission of 
years is soon to be accomplished, and when the veil is 
lifted, you shall know whereof I am your friend. Sleep 
quietly to-night, and on the morrow your soul shall be 


138 


A DARK PLOT, 


moved by things of which you never dared to even 
dream. Part of the crew of the brig will be here, and 
Roswell Berkley is also summoned. The villain knows 
not that we are domiciled here, and at the request of 
Sir Oliver he will come most unhesitatingly. Let your 
dreams be happy to-night, and your hopes range to 
heaven if they can.” 

Bright and joyous danced the beams of the morning 
sun over those forest and streams, and gaily sung the 
lark as it dipped its bright plumage in the golden 
flood. At an early hour Orlando glided softly from his 
chamber, and approached the apartment where lay his 
mother. His heart beat with a hushed motion as he 
gently raised the latch, and in a moment more he stood 
by his parent’s bedside. Elpsey was drowsing in her 
chair, and as the youth entered he gave her permission 
to go out and take the fresh air. 

The negress was gone, and the son was alone with 
his mother. He bent low over the bed and kissed the 
white brow. That simple kiss — so sweet, so gentle, so 
pure, so loving. That son’s token of undying affection 
— so heartfelt and yet so quiet and unobtrusive, seemed 
like the rod of God’s chosen redeemer of Israel. 

Morgiana opened her eyes and gazed for a moment 
about her — then she closed them again, and placed her 
hand hard upon her brow. Then she opened them and 
murmured : 

“ Where am I ? ” 

‘‘ Here, here, dearest mother,” cried Orlando, as he 
took her hand in his own. 


A DARK PLOD 1 39 

Orlando,” uttered she, in a tone so strange that the 
youth was startled. 

Yes, yes, dear mother — ^your own Orlando — your 
own loving son. Do you not know me? ” 

Long and steady did that mother gaze into the face 
of her boy. Shade after shade, and light after light 
passed over her features, but her eyes varied not — their 
light was deep, intense, and a thousand souls seemed 
struggling in their lustrous depths. At length her lips 
parted, and she murmured : 

If this be not real, then what a dream has been 
mine.” 

“It must be like a dream to you, mother,” said the 
youth, still moved most strangely by the peculiar man- 
ner of his parent, “for during the past week you have 
been very low, very low ; but you are better now.” 

“ A week ! ” uttered Morgiana. “ Kaise me up, 
Orlando, and let me look upon you.” 

Trembling the youth obeyed, and as the mother re- 
clined upon the arm of her child, she continued : 

“A week ! No, no ; it must have been years — long 
years ! I remember I had. a child — a laughing babe 
— an infant boy — and I called it Orlando ! And I re- 
member, too, that my boy once had a father; but, alas, 
that father ” 

Big tears gathered in the poor woman’s eyes, and for 
a moment she hesitated, but at length she wiped her 
tears away, and while yet a fearful shudder ran through 
her frame, she continued : 

“ I see it all. My husband went out on that pleas- 
ant morning — he kissed me before he went, and his 
hand trembled as he left me. I was frightened at his 


140 


A DARK PLOT. 


looks, but he promised he would soon return. My hus- 
band I never saw again ! ’’ 

‘‘ And he deserted you? ” uttered Orlando, in fearful 
suspense. 

Deserted me ! Who ever told thee that ? ” ex- 
claimed Morgiana, with sudden energy. 

Orlando hesitated a moment how to answer, but soon 
he resolved to speak the truth, and in a kind, soft tone, 
he said : 

“ You told me so, mother. Ever since I can remem- 
ber — and that is sixteen years — you have given me to 
understand that my father deserted you.” 

“ And thus my dream passes before my eyes,” mur- 
mured she, as she placed her hand again upon her 
brow. ‘‘ No, no, my son — for such I know thou art — 
my husband loved me truly, faithfully. He promised 
to come back, but he never came. In an hour after he 
left me, some men brought a body into the house. I 
lifted the pall from the face and beheld the features of 
my husband ! lie was cold and stiff, and his cloak was 
all bloody. They told me he had fallen in a duel. I 
fell upon that lifeless clay and there my heart sunk to 
oblivion. Now, now, I feel that I am awakened from 
my life dream, yet that dream has some pictures 
which my mind still clings to. Your image is graven 
upon my heart, even as the unconscious lake receives 
the image of the tree that grows by its margin. My 
son, my son, what a dream has been mine ! How 
fraught with smiles and flowers ? ” 

As Morgiana spoke, she sank upon her pillow, and 
closed her eyes. She was weak, and she needed re- 
pose. At that moment Elpsey came back, and with- 
out a word the youth slipped from the apartment. In 


A DARK PLOT. i4t 

the hall he met Chiron, who had just come in from the 
garden. 

“ Orlando,” said the old hunter, as he grasped the 
youth by the hand, with astonishment, “ what is the 
matter ? ” 

The young man fell upon Chiron’s breast, and burst- 
ing into tears, he murmured : 

“ My mother ! my mother ! ” 

“ What has happened ? Speak ! speak ! ” uttered 
Chiron, in breathless agony. “ Morgiana is not more 
ill — she is not dead.” 

“ Dead ! Ah, no,” returned the youth, while the sun 
of refulgent joy beamed softly from his every feature. 
“ Chiron, the sun of reason has risen upon her — the 
dark clouds of her mental night have rolled away, and 
in all its pristine strength and purity her mind has re- 
sumed its throne ! She spoke to me of that fearful, 
terrible morning, when upon the cold corpse of my 
father, she sank into the chaos of her mental world! ” 

A moment that powerful man gazed into the features 
of the youth, and then, with his hands clasped above 
his head, he sank upon his knees. No sound broke from 
his lips, but yet the prayer of thanksgiving that went 
forth from his heart was such a one as angels love to 
receive upon their celestial tablets, and bear to the 
throne of the Father ! 

As Chiron arose to his feet, the physician entered 
the hall, and having been informed of what had trans- 
pired, he proceeded at once to the patient’s chamber. 
Ada came down from her apartment, and drawing her 
arm within his own, Orlando, led her forth into the 
garden, there to pour into her ears the joyful intelli- 
gence of his mother’s return to reason, while Chiron 


142 


A DARK PLOT. 


went to his own room to prepere his morning’s toilet, 
and when he returned to the hall, he looked almost 
like another being. The long beard was shaven from 
his face, so that the kind benevolent look which had 
before been confined about his mouth and eyes, now 
spread its beams over his whole face. His rough suit 
of furs and deerskins had been replaced by a neat citi- 
zen’s dress, and when Orlando saw him again, it was 
some moments before he could realize that in the 
noble form before him he really beheld his mysterious 
friend. Ada was delighted with the transformation, 
and so was Lady Wimple, and even in the presence of 
the gentlemen they both declared they loved him. 

When the doctor returned from his visit to the in- 
valid, his countenance was all smiles and joy, and he 
assured the assembled household that Morgiana was be- 
yond all danger. Chiron drew him one side, and con- 
versed earnestly with him for some minutes, after 
which the transformed hunter took Orlando by the 
hand, remarking as he did so : 

‘‘ The doctpr says I may see her. Come, my boy, let 
us go to Morgiana’s chamber.” 

When Orlando entered his mother’s room, she was 
sitting up in her bed, with the pillows so arranged as to 
give a comfortable support for her back, while her ej^es 
were dwelling upon Ada’s flower-garden, which opened 
its fragrant beds in front of her window. With reason 
once more sending its beams of intelligence athwart her 
features, she looked more beautiful than ever, and 
almost transported, Orlando stood and gazed upon her 
ere he stepped forward. 

“ Orlando, my son,” uttered Morgiana, as her eyes 
rested upon the form of her boy, ‘‘ come to my side and 


A DARK PLOT. 


U3 


let me look on thee. Kiss me. There, now tell me of 
the past. I’ve dreamed of forests and ruins, of flowery 
gardens and running brooks. Upon my mind there is 
pictured a sylvan paradise — a wood-embowered home 
in the sweet wilderness. I would know ” 

She did not speak further, for at that moment her 
eyes rested upon thp powerful form of Chiron. She 
did not gaze upon him wildly, nor did she start with 
sudden excitement, but calmly, steadily she gazed, and 
then placing her hand upon her brow, she murmured : 

“ Orlando.” 

‘‘ Well, mother,” softly returned the youth. 

‘‘ I fear me I am going back again to my dreamland 
home. I dwell again in the realms of phantasy,” and 
as the woman spoke she placed her hand over her eyes. 

‘‘ How — what — of whom do you dream ? ” asked Or- 
lando, placing his hand over his mother’s brow, and 
bending over her with earnest solicitude. 

‘‘ Did you not see that form that stood but now by 
my bedside — that airy phantom ? ” 

“ ’Tis no phantom, mother,” urged Orlando, “ look 
up again. He is still here, and he has been our best 
friend.” 

“ Here ! here ! ” murmured Morgiana. ‘‘ No, no, 
my son — that may not be — it cannot be.” 

Morgiana,” said Chiron, in a tone of the softest, 
richest melody, while he stepped forward and took one 
of her hands in his own. 

Slowly Morgiana gazed up into the powerful man’s 
face. For a full minute she looked, and then, while an 
expression made all of earnest, hopeful prayer, rested 
upon her features, she said : 


144 


A DARK PLOD 


“ Speak to me again. Call me Morgiana. Call me 
— no, no — O God, that cannot be.” 

‘‘ Morgiana, it can be — it is ! ” said Chiron, and while 
he spoke a loving smile shone upon his broad kind 
face. 

Then speak to me again. Call me ” 

My wife ! ” cried the old hunter, and as he stooped 
further forward, Morgiana fell upon his bosom, and was 
clasped within his powerful arms. 

‘‘ Has kind Heaven played me false in this, or do I 
see my father ? ” ejaculated Orlando, in trembling, tear- 
ful accents, as he drew nearer to his strange friend. 

“ My son, my son,” murmured Chiron, as he drew 
one arm about the form of the youth, “ you do indeed 
see in me your father. My wife — my child ! ” 

As the strong man spoke he drew his priceless bur- 
dens more closely to his bosom, and then he wept like 
a child. In a few moments, however, he laid Morgi- 
ana’s head back upon her pillow, and, wiping the tears 
from his cheeks, he gazed upon her sweet face. 

“ Let no doubt cloud your joy, my own dear wife,” 
he said, while yet both the mother and son were regard- 
ing him with speechless wonder. “ I am your own hus- 
band — I am the man to whom you pledged your heart’s 
early love — the father of your boy, and the fond wor- 
shipper of your goodness and truth. Look up, sweet 
wife, and be happy, for ere this sun that now illumines 
the earth shall sink again to rest, there shall not be a 
cloud to darken the horizon of your peace. You now 
have a husband, a son to live for — ^you have other 
hopes to realize, and many scenes .yet to come shall be 
blessed with the sunlight of your smiles. Look up, my 
wife, and smile.” 


A DARK PLOT, 


I4S 

Morgiana did smile, so happily and so sweetly, that 
heaven itself seemed reflected upon her countenance. 
Again she placed her arm about her husband’s neck, 
and murmured her thanksgiving with an overflowing 
heart. 

‘‘ But tell me, my husband,” said Morgiana, as soon 
as she could bring her mind down to cool reflection, 
‘‘ how is it that you live. I saw your bloody form, all 
stiff and cold, and they told me you were dead. Why 
have we thus been separated ? ” 

At this moment Orlando cast his eyes out of the 
window, and an exclamation of some sudden emotion 
escaped from his lips as he noted Roswell Berkley com- 
ing up from the river. Chiron’s eyes wandered in the 
same direction, and pulling his son by the sleeve, he 
bade him seek Sir Oliver, and inform him of the arrival, 
at the same time promising that he would soon follow. 

As Orlando passed out he saw Chiron take Morgi- 
ana’s hand again in his own, and though anxious curi- 
osity ran wild in his bosom, yet he endeavored to curb 
it by the self-assurance that all would ere long be re- 
vealed tO'him. He had seen his mother in possession 
of her long-lost reason, and he had found in the person 
of his mysterious friend a dear father, but yet there 
was much more for him to know. The life-lots had not 
all been drawn. 

10 


146 


A DARK PLOT. 


CHAPTER XXIL 

CONCLUSION. 

At the same moment that Roswell Berkley entered 
the hall of Sir Oliver Wimple’s dwelling, Dick Nolan 
and three of his shipmates came up from the river, and 
remained within hailing distance. Berkley was not 
without some slight shade of suspicion as he entered 
the baronet’s dwelling, for the servants had eyed him 
with strange glances as he passed them ; but, remem- 
bering that the old^ baronet was his friend, he strove to 
banish all unpleasant suspicions, and in a moment more 
he greeted Sir Oliver with a bland smile. 

‘‘Ah, whom have we here?” asked Berkley, as the 
remodelled hunter entered the room. 

“Let me introduce you,” said the baronet; “Mr. 
Berkley, my friend. Lord Chiron.” 

“ Chiron ! Lord Chiron ! ” repeated Berkley, with 
a sudden fear as he recognized the form of the old 
hunter. 

“ Have you forgotten me ? ” asked Chiron, as he re- 
garded the dumbfounded man with a bitter smile. 

“ Sir Oliver, what means this ? ” asked Roswell Berk- 
ley, in a tone which seemed to indicate that he still 
counted upon the baronet’s friendship, but at the same 
time evincing a fear that might not easily be cast off. 

“ It simply means that Lord Chiron, and one or two 
other friends have business to transact, and your pres- 


A DARK PLOT, 


147 


ence was deemed absolutely necessary. Ah, here comes 
another,” continued Sir Oliver, as the young hunter 
entered the room. Mr. Berkley, Orlando Chester.” 

“ Fiends of darkness ! ” shrieked the villain, as his 
eyes rested upon him whom he thought either dead 
or far away. “Sir Oliver, let me go hence.” 

“ Easy,” said Chiron, as he motioned Berkley to a 
seat. “ I have business with you, and when it is done, 
you can be relieved of our presence.” 

Roswell Berkley gazed first upon one and then upon 
another of those present, and while his gaze seemed 
wavering between Chiron and Orlando, he sank into a 
seat. A deep struggle was apparent upon his counte- 
nance, but at length his native impudence seemed to^ 
triumph, and with a forced look of offended dignity, he 
said : 

“ Then go on — but be quick about it.” 

“ You will find the business quickly enough trans- 
acted for your own pleasure,” returned Chiron, as he 
quietly took a seat. 

“And who are you that thus assumes to dictate?” 
said Berkley, with considerable distrust. “ If you be 
Lord Chiron you can be nothing to me.” 

“ I am the Lord of Chiron, and I am something to 
you; but it is of your brother that I would now 
speak.” 

Roswell Berkley started and turned pale. 

“I would ask you,” continued Chiron, “if you re- 
member of your brother’s making his will and leaving 
the colony for England ? ” 

“ Since I hold all my property by virtue of that will, 
I should not be likely to forget it,” returned Berkley, 


148 


A DARK PLOT, 


through whose pertubation there was a tone of assumed 
sarcasm and contempt. 

‘‘And if I remember rightly your brother never 
returned to America ? ” 

“ No, sir ; he died in England.” 

“ And do you remember how Sir Wallace Berkley 
came to his death ? ” 

Again the villain turned pale, for he remembered the 
dark hint about the duel which Chiron had thrown out 
a week before. 

“I will help you,” continued Chiron. “Sir Wallace 
Berkley fell in a duel with one Vincent Gilman.” 

“Well, sir, and what of that ?” uttered Berkley, 
vainly endeavoring to curb his swelling fears. 

“ The fatal will which the unfortunate baronet placed 
in your hands you made his death-warrant ; for you 
sent Gilman over to pick the quarrel, and when he re- 
turned he bore to you the intelligence of your broth- 
er’s death.” 

“ It’s a lie ! ” cried Berkley, “ a base infernal lie, coined 
for the purpose of my ruin. There dwells not the 
power on earth that can prove it I ” 

“Perhaps not,” replied Chiron, “for the man who 
did the deed now lives no more — his bones are lying 
beneath the deep shade of yonder forest. When Gil- 
man returned he informed you, also, that your brother- 
had left a wife and child. Almost immediately after 
Sir Wallace’s arrival in England, he fell in with a lovely 
companion of his childhood’s years, and he married 
her, of which fact he informed you by letter.” 

“ I never received it ! He did not write ! ” shrieked 
the villain, while the white foam actually stood on his 


A DARK PLOT, 149 

lips. “ My brother wa^ never married ! That ma- 
niac ” 

The speaker did not finish the sentence, for with a 
bound like a royal tiger, Chiron sprang forward and 
grasped the dastard by the throat. 

‘‘ Villain,” whispered the powerful man in a tone that 
resembled the rushing whirlwind, “ Morgiana Chester 
was your brother’s wedded wife, and she is one near 
and dear to me. Let your lips give utterance in but a 
whisper against her fair name again, and I’ll crush you 
as I would a viper. You did receive your brother’s let- 
ter wherein he informed you of his marriage, and you 
destroyed it. You then sought his death, and wdien 
you learned from Gilman that his poor wife had been 
made crazy by her misfortune, you resolved that she 
should pass before the world as a dishonored woman.” 

Chiron released his hold upon the villain’s throat as 
he ceased speaking, and went back to where Orlando 
stood trembling with amazed astonishment. 

“ Sit down, sit down for the present,” said Chiron, as 
he saw the youth about to speak. I will bring the 
matter to a close ere long.” 

As the old hunter — for so we may still call him — 
thus spoke, he turned once more toward where Berk- 
ley sat, and he was just in time to see that individ- 
ual fumbling within the bosom of his vest, as if in 
search of something, but the moment he met the fiery 
glance of the powerful man, he half withdrew his 
hand, and with a tinge of insolence he uttered : 

“ It seems strange that if my brother took to himself 
a wife, he should have withheld from her his family 
name.” 

Si? Wallace did not withhold from his wife his fam- 


A DARK PLOT. 


150 

ily name,” returned Chiron, but she, poor woman, 
wandered from it. After her mind fell from its throne 
of reason she conceived the idea that her husband had 
deserted her, her mind was filled with a fearful phan- 
tom of his faithlessness, and seeming to forget the past, 
she took her own pure virgin name, and shrank from 
the society of those whom she had known in her hap- 
piness.” 

It’s a lie ! — it’s all a lie ! ” cried the excited villain, 
seeming ready to grasp at the least straw that might 
fioat before him. ‘‘ My brother’s will gave to me all 
his property, and nothing can gainsay it.” 

“ Do you know that by the laws of England the will 
of a bachelor or widower is made null and void by a 
subsequent marriage and birth of issue ? ” asked Chi- 
ron, with a look of utter contempt. 

Prove it ! prove it ! ” cried Berkley, while a fiash 
of demoniac hope shot athwart his livid features. “You 
cannot prove this cursed marriage. The mother is a 
maniac, and there is no proof.” 

“ The mother is not a maniac,” returned Chiron, at 
the same time putting forth his hand to keep Orlando 
in his seat. “ Her reason has returned to her, and even 
now she is almost within sound of my voice.” 

“ Her words won’t pass against me,” said Berkley. 

“ But this will ! ” returned Chiron, as he took from 
his pocket a small parchment roll. “ ’Tis the secret of 
your mother’s old oaken chest,” he continued to Or- 
lando, and opening it to Berkley, he added : 

“ Here, thou heartless villain, is the marriage certifi- 
cate of Wallace Berkley, baronet, and Morgiana 
Chester, and it bears the seals and signature of the 
Earl of Boston, Sir Thomas Warren, together with that 


A DARK PLOT, 151 

of the rector who married them. Is that evidence 
enough?” 

For some time Roswell Berkley had been sustained 
upon the expiring embers of his own hopes ;■ but now 
all was crushed, and with a groan he fell back in his 
chair, his glassy eyes still glaring wildly upon his pow- 
erful antagonist. 

‘‘ Now, villain,” continued Chiron, as he noticed 
Berkley’s manner, ‘‘you will plot no more. The same 
fate which you planned for Orlando may j^et be yours. 
There’s murder deep and black upon your soul, and you 
cannot escape its just punishment. ’Twas you who 
plotted for the death of the young hunter, and then 
you plotted for mine. You attempted to sell the youth 
into Algerine slavery, and you tried to gain the mother 
into your power; but through all your wickedness the 
finger of a just God has been visible, and He seems to 
have saved you to this moment only that your crimes 
might be exposed, and yourself given over to the laws 
you have outraged.” 

“But by the torments of the fiends ! thou shalt not 
live to witness thy triumph,” roared the villain, start- 
ing from his seat and springing forward. 

The movement of the wicked man was so quick that 
he seized the parchment from Chiron's hand before the 
latter could prevent it, and then darting back he drew 
a pistol from his bosom. 

“ Now die, tattler ! ” he gasped ; and as he spoke, he 
pressed his finger upon the trigger of the weapon. 

If Berkley’s movement had been quick, Chiron’s 
eyes had been quicker, for the last movement of the 
villain he had anticipated, and springing nimbly on one 
side he dashed the pistol from its owner’s grasp. 


152 


A DARK PLOD 


There, miserable scoundrel ! ” uttered Chiron, as 
the weapon bounded across the room. “ Thus are you 
foiled. Dost think that the destruction of that mar- 
riage certificate would benefit thee ? Roswell Berk- 
ley, do you not know me ? ” 

Know thee ? ” iterated the foiled man in a fearful, 
horror-laden whisper, his knees trembling beneath him. 

“ Ay, Roswell, do you not know me ? ” again asked 
Chiron, while he bent upon the man before him a 
sharp, searching gaze. 

Roswell Berkley arose slowly from his seat, stepped 
breathlessly forward, and laid his hand upon the strange 
man’s arm. He gazed searchingly into his opponent’s 
face, a livid hue overspread his features, and while his 
heart seemed to shrink back from the blackness of the 
soul that held it, Jie sank into his seat, murmuring: 

The grave itself has turned against me — Wallace 
— my brother. Oh, that the earth had swallowed you 
ere you came to thwart me thus. Not dead, but living 
— and living to curse me ! ” 

‘‘ Your own black heart shall alone curse you,” re- 
turned Chiron. ‘‘lam ihdeed Sir Wallace Berkley, 
and I am your brother. I am Lord Chiron, too.” 

Roswell Berkley seemed ready to speak, but he had not 
the power. The crushing of all his hopes had been so 
utter, so whelming, that his tongue could find no utter- 
ance. In the meantime Orlando came forward and 
caught his father’s arm. 

“ Father,” he said, “is this real, or do I dream ? ” 

“ It’s all real, my boy,” returned Chiron, while his 
face softened wdth a beam of affection as he gazed upon 
his son. “ It’s all real, and you shall no longer be kept 


A DARK PLOT, 1 53 

in suspense ; for your own and my brothA’s informa- 
tion, I will explain it all.” 

“ Shortly after you were born, my son,” commenced 
Sir Wallace, “ I was one day grossly insulted by a per- 
fect stranger. At first I took no notice of it. The in- 
sult was repeated, and at length I struck the miscreant 
with my fist. He challenged me. His own insults had 
been too public to leave me any other course than to 
fight him. My moral nature shrunk from the duel, but 
I was too much of a coward to stand out against public 
opinion, and so I accepted the challenge. The 
scoundrel fired before his time. His bullet entered my 
side, and with one or two painful bounds, the siu'- 
rounding scenes swarmed before me, and I sank uncon- 
scious upon the ground. When I came to my senses I 
found myself in the house of an old ph3^sician, who in- 
formed me that I had been two weeks under his roof. 
The ball had been extracted, and I was told that I 
should recover ; and when I asked for my wife, they 
told me that she could not see me now, but that she 
was safe. But thej^ had deceived me, for when I was 
sufBciently recovered to go out, they confessed that 
Morgiana had disappeared with her child. I learned 
that I was carried to my house all bloody and insensible 
from the sanguinary field, and to all appearance dead. 
The sight threw the reason of my wife from the throne, 
and, unknown to her friends, she had disappeared. They 
told me she had raved some, and she thought I had 
deserted her, and she also spoke of going in search of 
me. 

“ Before I had made much arrangement for seeking 
out my poor night-stricken wife, the old physician, who 
had so kindly had me taken to his own dwelling, gave 


IS4 


A DARK PLOT,_ 


to me a small portmanteau left by the man who had 
shot me, and who had been obliged to take such sud- 
den flight that he had no time to return to the hotel for 
it. Within that portmanteau I found certain letters 
which revealed to me at once the whole dark plot that 
had been concocted against me, and which opened my 
eyes to the horrible fact that own brother had been at 
the bottom of the whole. At first I resolved to come 
directly back to Virginia and punish him as he deserv- 
ed ; but then I could not leave till I had learned some- 
thing of my wife and child, and at length, when I found 
that the impression was abroad that I was dead, I re- 
solved to let Roswell remain under the pressure of his 
own conscience, for I knew his grasping penurious dis- 
position, and I knew he would not waste my estate. 
After much searching and inquiry I made out to trace 
a woman and her child into Scotland, but I found them 
not. About six months after the disappearance of my 
wife, I received from the king the lands and titles of 
Chiron. I had been a firm adherent to the interests of 
Charles, and this was my reward. I accepted the lord- 
ship, and at the same time received from my sovereign 
the promise that he would keep the affair of my identity 
as secret as possible. From that time I threw off my 
family name, and wore only the title of my new grant. 
I was known only as Chiron. Some thought that Sir 
Wallace Berkley was dead, while others thought him 
safe in the American colonies, but only a chosen few knew 
him in his new guise. I had sworn that I would not 
reveal myself to my brother till I had found my wife». 
or learned something of her fate, 
f “ Year after year passed away, and I became con- 
vinced that my Morgiana and her child were dead. 


A DARK PLOT. 


I5S 


Charles had passed from the throne ; James had worn 
the English crown for his brief day, then fled into 
France, and William was now the monarch. In the 
troubles that ensued from James trying to regain his 
lost sceptre, I was called upon for my aid and I could 
not refuse. At length, when one day sailing down the 
Thames, a woman and her child were discovered upon 
the shore, upon which an old sailor made some remark 
about a poor insane woman with an infant boy, who had 
many years before gone to America in a ship to which 
he was attached. I started from my seat, drew the old 
sailor aside, and soon I knew that the poor woman of 
whom he spoke was my wife. I gave the man some 
gold, and as soon as possible I set forth for the colonies. 
I landed in Boston. I there gained intelligence of a 
maniac mother and her child, and at length following 
them here, I arrived in season to save them from the 
fangs of the serpent that would have destroyed them. 
The rest you know, my son.” 

“ Oh, my father, my father ! ” murmured Orlando. It 
was all he could say, and he only fell upon his parent's 
neck and gave way to the gushing emotions of his rap- 
ture-wrought. soul. 

Roswell Berkley spoke not a word after his brother 
had closed ; but after casting his eyes for a moment 
about him, he arose from his seat and turned toward 
the door. There was a strange gleam in his eye, a 
peculiar twitching about the mouth, and his hand 
trembled violently as he placed it upon the latch. None 
moved to detain him, none thought of it, and his man- 
ner- struck them with awe. For a moment after the 
villain had passed out was quiet, and Chiron wa^ 


A DARK PLOT. 


IS6 

upon the point of following his brother, when the sharp 
report of a pistol sounded through the air. 

The party rushed out from the hall, and within' a rod 
of the doorstone they found the wretched man welter- 
ing in his own blood ! He had carried a second pistol, 
and that life he had blackened by his heinous crimes, 
he had himself taken ! 

“ Poor Roswell ! murmured Lord Chiron, as he 
stood and gazed upon the fearful scene. ‘‘ For all thy 
sins I could not have wished thee so terrible an end as 
this. But God’s will be done ! ” 

Nolan and his companions were soon called, but in- 
stead of carrying Roswell Berkley back to Jamestown 
a prisoner, they carried his cold corpse to its burial. 
His brother placed a marble slab above his grave, but 
on the next day afterwards the heavens lowered upon 
the spot, and a lightning-bolt shivered the pale marble 
into fragments ! It was never replaced ! 


Soft and gentle twilight had spread its grateful in- 
fluence abroad, when within the chamber of Lady 
Morgiana Berkley were assembled the principal living 
characters of our tale. The happy wife and mother, 
now almost entirely recovered, was sitting up in her 
bed. Upon her left hand stood Sir Oliver and Lady 
Wimple and their gentle Ada, while upon her right 
stood her husband and son. 

‘‘ Sir Oliver,” said Lady Berkley, while a joyous light 
danced in her eyes. “ Orlando had imparted to me a 
secret, and assured me you have for some time known 
and admitted its import. In addition to your many 
kind favors I would now ask you for another, my hus- 


A DARK PLOT. 157 

band having given the mission into my hands — give to 
my bestowal the hand of your sweet Ada ! ” 

A happy smile irradiated the old baronet’s features, 
as he took the hand of his blushing child, and without 
a word he passed it overdo his wife. Lady Wimple 
kissed her fair daughter’s brow, then led her to the head 
of the bed, and placed her hand in that of Lady Morgi- 
ana. The latter drew the gentle girl to her bosom, and 
put forth her thin white hands — one to Ada, the other 
to her son. “ There,” said she, joining their hands, 
let each take the other as earth’s best gift.” 


THE END. 



ARE YOU 


AI AMEeiCAl GITIZES ? 


And are you not in favor of giving American 
Authors an opportunity to make fame and for- 
tune by the publication and sale of the work 
of their brain? If so we desire to call your 
attention to the fact that the Only Publishing 
House in America that publishes only the 
works of American Authors is that of J. S. 
Ogilvie, 57 Rose Street, New York, and we 
ask that you will encourage not only this 
House, but the American Author, who for 
many years has been shut out of the field by 
the constant flood of English Author’s W()rks. 

The most practical way to encourage them 
is to purchase this and other books published 
by this American House. 

Send for a complete catalogue. 

Correspondence with American Authors of 
real merit is solicited. 









7 ^ ' 


«si 




^ :r: \-!> 


‘»’^ ; ,s 














tl 


mMfM ^»| .. '•; ■ v' i;? f'- '• • .v ■ ■' ' ' 

T: vJv;fV^"'-' Cyy’''^Mim ' :--'r ;,;r; ■■«y' 

« 4 ,‘-fw'''^'--^'' ss# 7 ’?>§f# '^ ■ ■ ■ "' '■■■>' ' ■ ■' '■:■■■•'■■ 

Jfetc' ' . ' , -j*. 



. 's 


\*A 


t 




; . V 'i 

?• j 


fi 

< k 


H'- 1'/'- rfe’i '-V7'- ^ ■” 4" ■ - ■ 


7 , . r, 7 


-• '• . • 
:t 




M, 


'■. . -'V. 


7 '^ 




-r ^ 


Lit T •. .* ’ .■ 


r. *. J ."' •, 

■ S^' V, ■.*■.• 

fe- - 


I ' « 4 * * 


777 ^',^ 7 : 77 ^ 








^ 77 . >:'; 7 ; 7 : '■ '■ : 7 ;.'' 

t'. * ^ ' ■ .i, V. ■„ ■- > , .. ' ' ,1 /t-S'. ' ' 



/ '^' ^ '.,7 .': ^ V J'^'i 

• 7 . i V ► >.-)J 

•r*y‘ '• V, - '/ \f ; <'i 

>!'•■'•' •' '•//■^ • ’ ./- •,' '7: il 


‘‘'r . ' - • 

- ■" ' ■ Ji * ‘iJ/ 

■' ' N'*. 


‘ ■ i -7 4 v f^Tjr^ 



' /. 




. 'Sv:.-*- 7 ‘. 7 ' 77 ': ' ■•: 

'P **.. 

.J I •• ^ 



'*• .•»' 
5%’ 







The Daylight 

Central draft, of course. Wick raised 
and lowered by our wheel system. 

It doesn’t stick. 

Wick doesn’t have to be a ^ inch 
above the rim to give a good light. 

Fact is, we have never seen a lamp 
which exposes so little wick as 
the " Daylight.” 

So the wick doesn’t char. 

So the oil burns with a clearer light. 
Craighead & Kintz Co., Salesroom, 

33 Barclay street. New York. Factory, 
Ballardvale, Mass. 

Lamp. 



Piano, Banquet and Table 
sizes. The Daylight Lamp 
Co., 38 Park Place, New 
York, will give you further 
information. 






.try -'.-- ' ‘ ,»h*; , '.'V ^.'r/.'ii,': .r-^j 

' ■ : ' ■/. ■• . 



''■'*. ‘ '‘•it?-;,!, \ 

■ V-.' * 

r /•■ , • • ' 




\r *• ;. . • - 1- ij . , .y, • 


WKHISb^i ‘i-’* ' ■ ’• ' '‘’t ^ f ‘J 

^ -r/r ■* *' ''ii* 

■ . y-K 

I i' ,' . ' MM«' ' 

■amOK^MKm 


•: * • i'- •■■' "ft’ • <-* 

' • * . • * 1 




' •■v' 


I# ■ \* 


<is V \ 

• *'v "•• 






f k 


■ - 


• . * ' 

, Ji’ : " ' 


flir- 


Bw'ct- ‘ fiiHarrff .w •.■ ^ ^ ■ 

”•;. , ■ >.' '•. • -i' 





■.'... V '■'• A y-y‘yt> 

1 .. * * Vk'"' . ^ . 




V* > 




■T*'. 







/ 





. ii 


•A . 




' .i: , ..: < 

il" . 

b v • "w ■ . . . 


S^' - 


Ln-Tv;/ - 

^ ?^:i' s.-?.,'-.j,' ■•-■;/. ••l»''Wsi /• .| 


: :w' 

/>. . V < ;V ‘ 

.■ : ■ 

. v^Z-rA s.'; < • 






iV:\ . 






; A 





■' ’-i- ' 1 ^ j .. . • 


V 




-fr- • 







j 




.*> -v %* - 
‘ V-* ■ ■ 




«■ y, 

»' 

V' 


/ 


Kr.A 



* 


I 


I 


f 



